I feel comforted (or terrified) knowing what stages are next for our kids; I guess I’m a planner.

In the infancy stage, I eagerly watched friends’ older babies eat solids, walk, and begin to talk and couldn’t wait for my own baby to do the same. I’d also watch the tantrums and the food-throwing, and while those didn’t look fun, at all, it did mentally prepare me for what was to come.

In toddlerhood, I’d watch older kids get their own shoes on, saying please and thank-you without being prompted, and playing on their own. And I also watched the attitudes and defiance, but again, it was strangely comforting, especially once my own hit that stage.

And now, with my eldest two being somewhat older kids I am looking at the moms with teenagers who are spending their Friday nights cheering their kids on under the spotlight, traveling with ease and whose kids do chores like mowing the lawn. I also watch the kids spending more time with friends, becoming hurt by a crush and wanting to be in solitude.

And right now, I am also watching a friend a few steps ahead of me prepare her son for college…

The majority of my friends back home have younger children than we do, but where we live and with the friends I have now, I’ve always been the mom with young kids, picking the brains of those ahead of me.

Until, I was at the park the other day with my crew when two other moms rolled up pushing their kids in strollers. Their kids ranged in age from nine months to three-year-old, and from the moment they arrived it was nonstop.

Our park experiences were similar in some ways and very different in others. While we all chased our toddlers around the play equipment ensuring their safety, my older two ate the lunches packed for them on their own, played on the equipment without me following them, filled their own water bottles up and even helped the other toddlers around the area.

Those mamas watched in amazement; not only at the self-sufficiency of my own older children but how they were able to help out with the littes.  They helped them walk over the scary wobbling bridge, pushed them on the swings, lifted them up to get a drink of water, made sure they didn’t topple over the side of the equipment, and just held their hand while they walked around.

After asking if they could adopt my older two to help around the house, I agreed as long as they’d be okay with sibling arguing and maybe a stiff-arm here or there (between my own children, not targeted at theirs..ha)  and we then began chatting about how to get babies to sleep through the night. We also talked about what preschools I recommended around the area and what sports my children started first. We talked about ways to get a picky eater to eat anything other than granola bars and fishy crackers and how we potty-trained our older kids.

And suddenly, I realized I was the veteran mom. I was the mom these women were looking to for advice and to just hear what life was like at the next stage.

This was something I had never experienced before.

It all just made realize what stage of life we are in right now, and how quickly it is happening. My older two are pretty much 1/3 of the way DONE being under our roof.

And my BABY is almost two.

And to some,  I am now the veteran mom.

As much as it startled me to realize what position I was now in, it came full circle and was comforting knowing I was able to offer a suggestion here and there, just as was once done for me. Actually, still IS done for me!

While I am not one to usually offer up suggestions or recommendations without being asked, as I fully respect each parent’s space and style, it did feel good to be asked and I happily shared whatever I could to answer those ladies’ questions.

So, the next time a fellow mom is doing something you’re curious about or seems to have some knowledge to share, ask! Even if you don’t know them. My guess is they won’t mind sharing and will gladly do so.

The post The Veteran Mom appeared first on Living with Lady.

And right then and there I stopped her from going on any further, and I told her that what she is going through is hard. It’s exhausting. And it can be very emotional.

The number of kids one has doesn’t make their job harder, just… different.

I remember becoming a new mom and feeling completely overwhelmed by my new little baby. Suddenly, I went from taking care of my every need to taking care of this little baby’s every need and putting my own  in the backseat.

Or rather, in the trunk.

Going from 8+ hours of uninterrupted sleep a night to waking up every couple of hours was daunting.

Being covered in spit-up was the new norm.

The house, once pretty well kept, was lacking. And quiet. Except for the cries…

“How do people take showers with a baby?!” I remember thinking.

Taking care of a newborn is hard.

Then came taking care of a toddler and a newborn. But, this time around, I had a little better handle on what to expect with the newborn. The toddler, on the other hand, was a whole new ball game.

The tantrums on the floor of Joanne Fabrics.

The overpowering will to decide what to wear.

The getting into every. single. thing.

Taking care of a toddler is hard.

But, that toddler also helped entertain the baby. And created some wonderful conversation. And even helped with the chores.

Then came the kindergartner, the preschooler, and the newborn. And again, this time around, I had a little better handle on what to expect with the newborn and the preschooler. The kindergartner, though; that territory was all new.

The placing blame on siblings for wrongdoings.

The leisurely listening.

The sneakiness.

Taking care of a kindergartner is hard.

But, that kindergartner also allowed me to shower while playing with the baby, keeping a close watch. And got the preschooler’s breakfast ready so we could sleep for one more minute. Or ten. And made me so damn proud when she boasted about her two amazing little brothers to her class.

From what I hear, the next stage for us is quite a doozy. Pre-teens. And then full-blown teenagers. And then young adults.

With every new stage comes new territory. Territory that leaves us wondering why people ever decided to join this parenting journey, but also territory that leaves us wondering how we could ever live life any other way.

Raising babies, toddlers, preschoolers, kids, pre-teens, teenagers, and young adults… is hard. No matter how many you have.

Yes, multiple kids having simultaneous tantrums/emotional freak-outs is insanity. But, multiple kids sitting around the dinner table sharing stories, laughing, and enjoying one another is priceless.

So, it’s okay, mama. Know that you are doing a great job, and that as you experience each stage you will for sure run into some new trials, but if you choose to expand and come the second, third, fourth, fifth, etc. time around, it will become easier and your confidence will rise.

Don’t be scared.

(Okay, maybe a little. )

The post I Have No Idea How You Do it With Three appeared first on Living with Lady.

I’ve caught myself doing that on occasion.

Pondering thoughts about how their children appear to be angels. How their marriages look flawless. How their upbringing must have been unforgettable.

How they must eat healthy, home-cooked meals nightly.

How their home is flawlessly kept.

How fun just engulfs their lives.

But I try to remind myself that this is seldom the case. In fact, I bet extremely rare.

Because I truly believe that everyone has a story.

Everyone has their “something.” Something that causes or has caused pain, worry, distress or hurt.

Maybe someone is having problems with infertility. Maybe there is abuse in the home. Maybe someone was hurt as a child. Or depressed. Or lonely. Or they lost a dear friend. Or had some sort of disorder at some point in their life. Maybe someone was at one point bankrupt, angry, or lost.

What we see on TV, the internet, social media, or blogs isn’t always the whole story.

It doesn’t show or tell you everything about a person.

It’s just a mere glimpse.

And maybe sometimes that is for the best. Not everything needs to be aired to the world.

But to the onlookers, remember…

Remember that the celebrity with the perfect figure, the neighbor with the perma-smile, the friend with the perfectly behaved children, or whoever it may be; they too have a story.

We all do.

This week is the 25th anniversary of the day my life was forever changed. A day that turned our family upside down. A day not many know about.

Maybe someday I will work up the courage to share my story.

One of many.

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