One of the hardest parts of parenting small children is the constant shifts in stages. I'm experiencing a multitude of stage changes in my youngest, Max, right now. He has decided he is finished with naps. He has learned how to scale the stair gate. He has shunned his bed in favor of mine. He has developed a huge jealous streak and will fight you tooth and claw if you even think to give me more than a passing glance. All in the past three short weeks.
I think back to the other kids who have all gone through similar changes. When they discover they are actually a different person than I am. When they can act on their curiosity. And make big messes. That they have needs and wants and can actively get them met. That they can vocalize those needs and wants. Loudly. Though, when the majority of them entered this stage, we weren't beholden to the law to homeschool.
Needless to say, its been a challenging past few weeks. Trying to mete out a new schedule that gets everything done, sees to everyone's needs, has been a start-stop-fail-start again operation. But we all go through stages. Areas in our lives when what had worked for us no longer does so and an overwhelming need to grow and change. They can be dramatic, like Max's new emotions and abilities, or subtle changes in routines and desires. I know that has been true for me, at thirty, I'm at a stage in my life that requires that dramatic change and I, like Max, have to take the whole family on the ride.
Yes, it's harried, frantic and frustrating but it's still miraculous to see the changes in him. The emergence of the person he is meant to be is amazing. The potential is limitless and astounding. Awe inspiring. I wouldn't miss this metamorphosis for the world.
I just hope whomever is watching my changing stages is equally impressed.