Don’t stress about enjoying them while they’re young

One thing I have vowed never ever to say to a mum of young kids is “enjoy them while they’re young” or “the years pass so fast”.

 

If I had a euro for every time some well-meaning older mother said this to me, I could fund a trip to Disneyland Paris – or at the very least, Tayto Park. Of course we want to enjoy the children we have been blessed with and to appreciate every second we spend with them and lots of the time we do. But some of the time they are bloody hard work and there are very few of us mums who haven’t had days where we feel like walking out the door and leaving all the mayhem behind, particularly those of us who have had children close together.

 

We all have those days where we are tired, stressed, bored, frustrated or half demented with hormones and our little darlings — picking up on this with their special mommy mood antenna — decide to throw some more chilli into our already bubbling cauldron of emotions. We have all lain awake at night once they are tucked up angelically asleep and felt guilty for having been impatient, nagging or snappy with the kids that day. Once we get a break from the constant demands of motherhood for a couple of hours, our deep love and appreciation for our children wells up inside us again.

 

How often have you and your partner gone out for a night or sat in bed looking at photos of your kids on your phone and talked about how amazing they are after they drove you half crazy all day?

 

When you’re suffering from crippling post-natal depression or just finding motherhood much tougher than you expected, being told to “enjoy them while they’re young” only adds to the mountain of guilt that already sits heavy on your shoulders.

 

I recently read for the first time the beautiful essay Father Forgets by W.Livingston Larned which has been published in hundreds of magazines and newspapers and even reproduced in Dale Carnegie’s iconic How to Win Friends and Influence People since it was written in 1927.

 

It is a message from a father to his son as the child lies asleep “one paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead”. The father recalls a litany of ways in which he criticised his son during the day from scolding him for gulping down his food to spreading the butter too thick on his bread. Sound familiar?

 

The father recalls how when he is reading later that evening, he snaps at his little boy when he interrupts him.

 

He writes: “You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither.”

 

The father has come to his son’s bedside in the darkness and knelt there ashamed. We have all been there.

Michelle McDonagh is a freelance journalist working from Blarney, Co Cork. She’s a mum of three children aged 2, 4 and 5, and a firm believer in 'good enough' parenting, bribery and the healing powers of chocolate.