Threedom

It was on a loop in my head. “The first three years are the most important developmentally.” Pediatricians, experts, other parents – even people that have never had a kid but are self-appointed experts were saying it: The growth of the brains and bodies of small humans in this small window is mind-blowing - and fast.

So, when my son came home from the hospital, I made a vow. For the first three years, I wouldn’t let anyone or anything sneak in and clutter my mind or heart or schedule - nothing would interrupt his feeling of seamless safety and consistency in the most formative months. 

Then he turned three.

After a big birthday bash weekend and our nightly ritual – bath, books, blessings – he fell asleep. I went into my room, quietly closed the door and then broke down in tears.  I cried like – um - a three year old. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised, a lot of feelings were at play -  joy, accomplishment, relief, exhaustion – and besides, the party was the first time flesh and blood people had gathered in our home since the pandemic. I felt an overwhelming sense of freedom.

Now that I have what they call a ‘threenager’, the parenting gurus are back at it, warning me of the impending drama. All the the good work his brain did in those first years is exactly what they warn will cause conflict now as he starts to crave independence. His freedom from me and mine from him will be at war with each other. They say it can get ugly.

I’m not worried. 

I don’t buy into most of the fear mongering targeted at new parents. I ignored the doomsday warnings of sleepless nights, witching hours, missed milestones and the terrible twos. I didn’t baby proof. There were no gates, no baby locks, no puffy floor mats or silly marshmallow sleeping suits. I didn’t rush him to the ER at every 101.5 degree temperature or slightly off color poop. Instead of instilling stranger danger, I tried to teach him the world is a safe and friendly place. Even during a pandemic. There were a few 3 am panic attacks where I was certain I would end up in ICU and he would be left alone but mostly I kept my mind from future tripping.  Years of buddhist practice and other spiritual programming have taught me to stay in the moment.

That’s the magic switch. Mentally staying put. It hasn’t been easy, but I didn’t let my mind make it harder than it had to be. Following fear is a never-ending and very slippery slope. There is always a new shit-storm just around the corner.  

When the lockdown went into the second year - I had a mini-epiphany. I realized that if I could have seen the future, if I knew I would be solo-parenting a toddler in a lockdown, without family nearby - wiping groceries off and worrying about literally taking my next breath – I may not have leaped into the great unknown.

I was cautioned by many of my well-meaning friends to not to bring a child into my life. People with adoring children looked me straight in the eye and asked, Are you sure you want to do this, you know it’s really, really hard. Thank god I didn’t listen to them - or my own self doubts. Thank god I didn’t know what was coming or I may have missed out on the single most profound relationship of my life.

Thank god, there is no such thing as crystal ball parenting. We don’t get a sneak preview of the unthinkable terrors we will weather together or the unimaginable joys will we revel in side by side. I have found tucked neatly inside all of the worst case scenarios are unexpected little joys that can take your breath away - like the way he held my hand the night after we spent 8 hours in the ER getting his first and hopefully last set of under the chin stitches.

As much as we try to control the future, we can’t and we are the better for it. The more planning we do, the more emotional whiplash we get when it doesn’t go that way. Somethings - most things - are best left unknown.

When I stop listening to the voices on the podcasts and parenting books, in playgrounds and schoolyards and start to listen to my deepest intuition and my littlest human - then I truly feel free.

That is a freedom worth celebrating.