Stages

I really savor those moments when I remember to just completely stop everything I'm doing, quiet myself, get into observation mode, and just relish a stage that one of my children is in. In January, Maren exited a long stage of frustration that pertained to her bodily functions. The new stage, which is much more enjoyable- and maybe less offensive- to talk about, is full of a 3 1/2 year old's pride and joy in the bathroom. She is no longer medicated to help her little body go. She is not bringing her parents to tears with internal anxiety any more. How we tried to ascertain whether she was being Master Manipulator ("Ha Ha! I'll make them deal with poopy underwear yet again!!!") or was just being Marvelously Maren, but as miserable and in the dark as we were.

While Mar had her issues with the ol' GI tract before potty training, those had been solved for the time being with a little bit of generic Miralax. Just as she turned three in June of last year, she potty trained...mostly. So, this ordeal, which neither of my other children had gone through, ptL, lasted about seven months. And really, it could have been much worse if she went #2 as often as most children, but no, she threw in that component of making us wonder if she would ever go again. We're talking MANY, MANY DAYS! I remember one time she was on Day 5!!! of not going. We had a meeting to go to at church that night where she was in childcare for a couple hours. Thankfully a friend of ours was in there and she held Maren who whimpered and said her tummy hurt the entire time. She tried to go, but couldn't. Fear and worry had started to mount for me at about day three of this, so by now, I was a real case. When we got home, the big kids went to get jammies on while Ben took Maren in to the potty. She cried. He encouraged. He cheered. He coaxed.

And she went.

And I, kneeling in a ball outside the bathroom door, could not even slightly hinder the weeping and accompanying quakes that began. Whitton and Sylvia were looking at me once they emerged from their rooms. 'What's wrong, Mama?' 'Mommy's just so happy that Maren went potty.' It was so traumatic. That was a stage.

Now we have another altogether different kind of stage, a happy stage so lovely that it needs to be committed to print, lest it pass and be forgotten. The stage can be simply called The 'I Just Love You So Much' stage. Maren is a happy little girl. She loves being a Mommy to her babies, Amy, Cassie, Starla and Zika. She spends the most time with Amy, who is an African American baby. We also have Jessie, who is also black, who was given to me by Grandma and Grandpa Harness when I was a 7 week old baby myself, in the hospital with Spinal Meningitis. Anyway, there is much love for all the babies in the house. Some of these nurturing skills were undoubtedly learned from Sylvia, who has helped me take care of her little sister from her very first days. Maren's Mommy-type love really does spread around to all of us in her family and in the past couple months, she has taken to telling all of us, very frequently throughout each and every day, "I just love you so much." Or sometimes, "I just love you guys so much."

What is so striking about these pronouncements is the way they catch us off guard, because they come at times when the rest of us wouldn't really think of saying such profound things. The rest of us wait for more "appropriate" times, like when we're saying goodbye or goodnight. Maren says it in the middle of a game of Parcheezi. Or in between bites of broccoli. Or while I try to finagle a shoe over her heel. Ben and I have said, 'Oh, to keep this going! Oh, if we could all do this. Wouldn't that be great?' Even now, I'm hit with the realization that if we could take what is now a cute stage, and turn it into a lifelong habit for each of us, the result would be revolultionary. So, thanks for teaching us something profound, Maren, and for loving us so much. We love you too.