Big girl swings and walking through culverts

Striking a balance between mom-of-teens and mom-of-toddlers is...hard.

My mother warned me it would be. And it is, though admittedly I think she had it harder than me in that department. Consider, for example, this colour-coded list of children (red), grandchildren (blue), and great-grandchildren (purple) my mom recently included in a post she wrote:

Kelli 1977

Abra 1978

David 1983

Nancy 1985

Patrick 1989

Amy 1993

Josie 1994

Rosie 1997

Matthew 1998

Deklan 1999

Andrew 2000

Piper 2000

Stephen 2002

Malachi 2003

Olivia 2006 twin

Jonah 2006 twin

Rachel 2007

Miriam 2009

Scarlett 2011

Benjamin 2012

Zoë 2015

Iah 2015

Alexander 2017

Arthur 2019

Rowan 2020

Ireland 2021

Millie 2021

Phoebe 2021

Oaklyn 2023

Ethan 2023

Shiloh 2024

Baby Barker 2026

If my own list echoed hers, I would have three grandchildren by this point in time. That is wild to think about. And I'm glad that I don't have grandchildren in my list yet because I'm still just figuring out this motherhood thing. But it just showcases that her mix of people to care about was a lot more complicated than mine is. 

Still, it's difficult to balance staying up late and talking about life and politics while playing cards and then...getting baby dolls dressed and cutting up pancakes early the next morning.

Let's be honest: there are rarely pancakes the next morning.

Add in grad school and work and sports and everything else and...I'm really not a very fun mom-of-toddlers anymore. I think Phoebe has been to story time at the library like 3 times in her life (to be honest, my story time is just as good as the library's) and I do not take her to the park as often as I would like. 

So that's where we headed on Boxing Day.

Phoebe had been...a gem...that morning (too much Christmas meant she was incredibly grumpy) and she had been telling me "No!" about everything so when she asked me if I would put her in the baby swing I told her, "No!"

(See—not a fun toddler mom anymore. I can't even make an outing to the park fun). 

I told her that I would push her on the big-girl swing but not on the toddler swing. She is getting way too big for those things! And it's high time she learned how to pump.

She threw herself into the wood chips sobbing and I left her there throwing her fit while I went to push Alexander (who doesn't need to be pushed anymore, but who appreciates the boost nonetheless).

Eventually she decided she could give the big-girl swing a try and did great!

I'm pretty sure all the other parents at the park watching thought I was pretty callous (and perhaps I am) but sometimes there has to be a firm boundary set before growth can happen. 

And it's pretty clear she recovered.

Here's Benjamin and Zoë:

And because my kids are my kids, they soon became more interested in the not-playground parts of the playground, so we went to splash in the creek and explore this culvert, which Phoebe correctly categorized as a drain.

She is terrified of drains but slowly, slowly was coaxed towards the opening...

And pretty soon she followed Benjamin inside...

He went all the way through, but she turned back when the water got deeper.

The kids all ran across the (very much not a busy) road to meet Benjamin on the other side. 

So it's safe to say that Phoebe is conquering her fear of drains. New Year, new you...and all that...I guess.

We haven't been back to a playground since the day after Christmas...so I'm not sure I'm doing very well at getting this poor youngest child to the park. Perhaps we'll set park trips as a goal for this next year.