The Puddles

We had some wonderful friends from out-of-state call last night.  I always enjoy talking with them.  They were my children’s  surrogate grandparents while we lived in Nebraska (because their own grandparents lived so far away) and they still are adored by my children.

During our conversation we were talking about Ainsley.  I was commenting how she is my loving child who adores being hugged and loved on by all those around her.  Marsha reminded me that this was not always the case (how soon a mother forgets the woes of the early years).  She is right.  Ainsley refused to go to anyone from about six months through 18 months.  And I mean anyone.  She didn’t even like Chris.  After Ben’s first heart surgery and she was mainly taken care of by others for the week Ben was in the hospital, she totally changed.  She wouldn’t go in the nursery or to a babysitter.  She adored everyone . . . as long as Mom was in the room.  One of her favorite people was Marsha and she wouldn’t even go to her when Mom left.  One time I had to leave for a meeting at school and our dear Marsha watched Miss A.  Ainsley refused to be loved on or soothed.  So she spent the hour standing by the front storm door crying for mom (while of course Marsha watched her helpless to make her happy).  Our favorite babysitter could handle her long crying sessions when Chris and I would leave (God bless Valerie for tolerating her.  I think that there were lots of swinging in the swing outside to get through all of it) but none of it was easy.

I reflect on this because this is not the Ainsley of today.  When you are in the depths of diapers, it can be hard to see past today.  When this was going on with Miss A, I had a two year old son with a heart condition that required open heart surgery and a four year old who at the time needed speech, physical, and occupational therapy (half of which required us to drive 120 miles round trip once a week for her to get it). It just all seemed endless when we were dealing with it, like all of the drama would never end.   But here we are . . . and I have a happy child who loves being loved.  I just need to try to remember those early years of difficulty when I am in the midst of childhood despair today.  These times of woe will soon pass by.  I will (apparently) forget how hard it was and only remember the good times. The mind is a wonderful thing.  It will help us forget the pains of the past so that we can move on towards tomorrow.