Posted by: Ingrid | August 13, 2013

Four Years

I have the general sense that if I had done ANYTHING for four years, 24 hours a day, I would probably feel a remarkable sense of competence.  Even things that I don’t have much affinity for (bowling?  ice skating?  watercolors?  hunting?) seem like they would come a bit easier four years in.  Not so parenting.  Perhaps it is the only thing you can practice non-stop and still feel utterly lost.  I am constantly amazed that I have been a parent for four years now and it is still as confusing and exhausting as the day I began.  Possibly more so.

Isaac turned four a few days ago.  Four sounds so old to me.  Much more “kid” than toddler.  There is so much going on at that age.  So much that they are aware of and so much that they remember.  It is a little scary because, while I know that the early years are so incredibly formative, this feels like the point where memories are made and things can, and will, be used against me.

I wanted to write a letter to Isaac, I wanted to get so much down in words, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t get them out.  Four has felt like a very long and unresolved cadence.  I am still hoping and holding out for the resolution, and until it comes, until I feel like there is some sort of settled-ness, there is just not much I am able, or willing, to say, except that I love my little four year old and I hope that at some point parenting comes a little easier.

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Responses

  1. I think you will be amazed at how much easier things with Isaac will get in the coming year. My daughter just turned 5 and with a big sigh of relief, I realised that the day in day out challenges to my sanity have largely disappeared. And what a beautiful young lady she has become.


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