Parenthood is surreal
As captured by my Blog-within-a-blog picture below, Mike and I have decided this weekend that parenthood is the ultimate departure from "reality" (or rather, what you thought was reality before). I would have put money on it being grad school, but no, though perhaps our being students increases the surreal factor just a tad.
We are simply breathless at how quickly time slips by now that we are parents. This is even more puzzling because it seems that we often watch the clock (e.g: "...okay now, a half-hour till he needs to be fed again..." or "...he takes a bath at 7..."). It gives our world an almost desperate feel, like someone jumping to catch hold of a rope only to find out that the rope is covered with grease. How can we ever spend enough time with each other, when it seems like just this morning that Grandma Jane arrived and she is already gone, or that it was just yesterday that Isaac couldn't even smile and now he giggles at us every day? How can we ever truly appreciate our Baby-Bot when he changes from "this is my 'Normal'" to "this is my NEW 'Normal'" every week? At the end of the day, you almost have to sit back and let the events of the past 24 hours wash over you, just so you have an understanding of how they all fit together, and that yes, they all happened to you and your family in just one day. It makes me ferociously jealous of stay-at-home moms, and the potential simplicity and predictability of their days. It also makes me wonder, as Isaac seeks each day to reach a new level and to create a new "normal" for himself -- will I ever get a "normal" of my own? Will Michael? Perhaps not -- because our "normal"s inherently must contain enough breathing room for Isaac's budding abilities and personality, which, I now realize, will be mutating every day for the next 20 years, or even more. It amazes me, the ability of my son to change -- but what no one ever told me is that, I think, staying alive in this parenting game means being able to change even faster than he.
After Grandma Jane's visit, I have also realized why grandparents feel that way about their grandbabies. Grandbabies are like having your very own babies -- having that feeling of intense love and possession and pride and wonder and anticipation -- but with the benefit of not being directly responsible for them, being able to "hand them off" to their parents at some set point in the future. Both the joy and the terror of the new parent is the overwhelming, crushing responsibility. It both overloads all of your brain-circuits almost to the point of ceasing function, and also crushes your heart with the beautiful knowledge that you can shape this one little person, that this person who is a gift to you is also your gift to humanity. The lucky grandparent can participate in the "shaping" part and conveniently gets to cut out the "terror" part. Punks.
We are simply breathless at how quickly time slips by now that we are parents. This is even more puzzling because it seems that we often watch the clock (e.g: "...okay now, a half-hour till he needs to be fed again..." or "...he takes a bath at 7..."). It gives our world an almost desperate feel, like someone jumping to catch hold of a rope only to find out that the rope is covered with grease. How can we ever spend enough time with each other, when it seems like just this morning that Grandma Jane arrived and she is already gone, or that it was just yesterday that Isaac couldn't even smile and now he giggles at us every day? How can we ever truly appreciate our Baby-Bot when he changes from "this is my 'Normal'" to "this is my NEW 'Normal'" every week? At the end of the day, you almost have to sit back and let the events of the past 24 hours wash over you, just so you have an understanding of how they all fit together, and that yes, they all happened to you and your family in just one day. It makes me ferociously jealous of stay-at-home moms, and the potential simplicity and predictability of their days. It also makes me wonder, as Isaac seeks each day to reach a new level and to create a new "normal" for himself -- will I ever get a "normal" of my own? Will Michael? Perhaps not -- because our "normal"s inherently must contain enough breathing room for Isaac's budding abilities and personality, which, I now realize, will be mutating every day for the next 20 years, or even more. It amazes me, the ability of my son to change -- but what no one ever told me is that, I think, staying alive in this parenting game means being able to change even faster than he.
After Grandma Jane's visit, I have also realized why grandparents feel that way about their grandbabies. Grandbabies are like having your very own babies -- having that feeling of intense love and possession and pride and wonder and anticipation -- but with the benefit of not being directly responsible for them, being able to "hand them off" to their parents at some set point in the future. Both the joy and the terror of the new parent is the overwhelming, crushing responsibility. It both overloads all of your brain-circuits almost to the point of ceasing function, and also crushes your heart with the beautiful knowledge that you can shape this one little person, that this person who is a gift to you is also your gift to humanity. The lucky grandparent can participate in the "shaping" part and conveniently gets to cut out the "terror" part. Punks.
posted by Claire at 8:56 PM
1 Comments:
What you say is partially true about grandparentd. But we really and truly don't want to hand them off to mom and dad. It's just that we no longer have the energy that we once had to keep up with them. Nor the brain cells to remember all those things that were important in raising you kids.Grandchildren are a treasure. A crown to our old age.Prov.17.It's as if our children have presentd us with the most perfect gift they could offer. And we in turn consider it a very high privilege and hohor to be blessed by such a gift.There is yet to be discovered a word that describes the love that grandparents feel for a grandbaby.I know that our arms ache to hold our precious Master Isaac,most perfect grandson. Mamaw & Dadaw
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