Dear ones, as you know, we had another late arrival two years ago, a super great little boy who brings a lot of love and life into our family – but who has also given us a backward roll into heteronomy. Because: Our „big“ three children are 8, 11 and 14 years old and, compared to a two-year-old, are of course already very independent.
They travel to school and hobbies by public transport, don’t need any help putting on their pyjamas and think it’s cool when we parents want to go out to an Italian restaurant in the evening, because that means crisps and TV for the kids!
With a two-year-old, a lot changes: we can go out on our own in the evening and the big one keeps an eye on us, but to be honest, it’s not quite so carefree for me. At the weekend we’re also not quite as flexible as families with older children because the little one still takes a nap (and I usually do too :-)) I can’t just spontaneously go along to a yoga class or for a drink, because we always have to clarify things first: Where is the little one, who can take over and look after him for a short time?
The latecomer catapults me back to the daycare centre days
While my friends are looking at secondary schools for their children, I have an interview at nursery school. While the others are discussing the usefulness of winter jackets with the teenagers, I have snowsuits hanging on the hook again. While my friends are educating me about the dangers of smoking, I’m trying to wean myself off the milk bottle
.
All of this means that I’m in a different reality of life to all my friends – because at 43, I’m the only one with a small child. I realised this starkly the other day in two situations: I was in the car with a friend on the way to the cinema. We passed a roadworks site and I was about to shout out loud: „OH, an excavator!“ to shout. When I realised this and told my friend, we had to laugh and she said it was amazing how long it had been since she and her son had been at building sites.
And another friend recently told me that she sometimes sits at home all alone on the sofa in the evening. Her husband is doing sport, her 15-year-old daughter is with friends and her 13-year-old son is training. I just thought: „How marvellous! This peace and quiet must be heavenly! Because I am hardly ever alone. There’s always someone else scurrying around, wanting to talk about the day or have a cuddle, needing another sandwich, a warm milk with honey or some advice. The time when all my children are out and about on their own in the evening is still a long way off…
Sometimes I look a little jealously at the freedom of my friends, with whom I started motherhood, but who now „only“ have two children who are already out of the woods. Most of the time, however, I am also really happy that I can experience things much more consciously with the new arrival than I did with the older ones. I’m looking forward to kindergarten time again with the lantern walk and summer party. I’m looking forward to every new word, all the cute slips of the tongue and the great milestones. And at the same time, I’m really happy that this is my fourth child and that I’m no longer as excited and inexperienced as I was as a first-time mum.
But of course, such different realities of life also have an impact on friendships and acquaintances. They change – some become less intense, others remain consistently deep. Some of my friends become really gentle and cuddly when the little one sits on their lap. Others realise how little they can do with toddlers and that they are happy to have outgrown this phase. Both are totally ok.
Why am I telling you this? Because I think it’s normal to look wistfully at the lives of others from time to time and at the same time be totally grateful for what you have yourself. Everything has its time, everything is just a phase. The important thing is that we should never forget what a great gift it is that we are allowed to accompany our children into life – no matter how old they are.
