Auto mode: ON

What is the meaning of 'auto'?

According to dictionary.com, it is:

A designated condition or status in performing or responding to a problem.

From a parenting point of view, at least in my personal context, being 'auto-mode' simply means that the child is able to self help and settle problems on their own without needing us to lift one finger, or even to supervise. 

To say the obvious, I'm not refering to 'fire burning the house down' type of problems. I mean the daily aspects of going to the toilet / washing of hands / playing quietly by themselves kind.

At this point, I might sound like a lazy parent. And I admit that I am to a certain degree. But surely every parent can empathise with the 'agony' of being at the beck and call of your child's every need. More so if your child is in the toddler/preschool range. And if you have more than 1 child, that need is multiplied by the respective numbers. That can amount to quite an overwhelming number of requests/demands to entertain daily. Afterall, we only have one pair of ears and hands to handle.

Children are never the most patient little people around. They don't understand the meaning of the word 'Wait'.

You mean you're in the midst of the loo?

Completing that report due first thing tomorrow?

Watching that last 5 minutes of the last episode of your favourite drama?

Well, their unrelentless 'iwantitnowiwantitnow' can practically drive us crazy. 

Imagine being able to fast forward life to a few years down the road when they would have been old enough to operate in 'auto-mode', how much more carefree our lives would be? I can only anticipate with glee.

But since we can't just hit the fast forward button in real life, we'd just have to slug it out during these in-between growing years. 

I am currently in the process of crossing that bridge . Elder boy who is 7 is already pretty adept at almost everything. If I can keep my eyes one closed, then he probably CAN do everything. Right down to sticking his head into the fridge for 'aircon' relief, or retrieving his car from some dark and dusty corner.

Sister at 4 has barely made halfway mark. She tries very hard and is making great 'progress' but needs more 'practice'. She is able to lug a chair to elevate herself when washing hands at the too-tall sink, but isn't fantastic at getting her hands cleanly off soap or safely back down. She is stubbornly autocratic in her choice of clothes and in  wanting some things done her way, but throws selfish tantrums when they don't go as planned.

The examples go on as we cater to their demands and whim, bargaining and exerting our stand every single day. It can get back-breakingly tiring and the days seemingly neverending. 

And then one day, I came across this.

From it, I am pointedly reminded of how little-a-time we actually have with them as kids. By breaking the years down, I realise that these back-breaking, tiring and frustrating years are only so short. That I must cherish these moments now because time will never return me back to these kiddy moments again. 

There is only that little few years we have with them thinking the world of us, of them wanting to hold our hands, welcoming us with big hugs and wide smiles after a long day's work, bedtime snuggles, laughing and playing with wild abandon, and showering us with all that innocent and unconditional love that they have.

There will come a time when our children will not be children anymore, morphing into this rebellious teenager in the process, pierced body parts, tattoos and all (figments of my imagination). And suddenly just like that, they will take off with their new found wings, leaving their hugs and snuggles behind like an outgrown teddy bear. My heart will ache for their little kisses and my ears will miss hearing their laughters ringing at home.

Suddenly, a lump in my throat forms and time fast-forwarded doesn't seem so appealing anymore. Instead, I wish for a 'pause' button to stand time still so these moments will never disappear into a memory. 

Life doesn't rewind (sound familiar?), and it doesn't come with a 'pause' or 'fast forward' button either. 

So, while 'slugging it out' during these frazzling back-breaking, tiring days, I shall persevere, cherishing and nurturing them until they reach auto-mode status. Until then, I will take every hug, every kiss, every snuggle and laughter that they have to offer, and return it double-fold. 

And then truly, when the time comes for them to fly away, I hope they carry with them fond memories of their childhood and growing years.

And as I stand grounded proudly looking up at them soaring in the skies, I would reconcile the beautiful memories of them growing up with the beautiful adults that they grew up to be, and know that somewhere along the way, I played a part.

**********

Afterthought:

And most certainly, I'll (try to) not cringe (too much) at the piercings and tattoos that appear along the way. 

At least my parents didn't. And I wouldn't.
Ok, I'd try! Promise.