The Tunnel

There is an article that has been going around cyberspace recently -  at least in the circles I frequent.  It's call "The Tunnel of Parenthood."  It describes how the early years of parenting when all your children are under the age of five are the most difficult. 

I knew these were strenuous times, and I've had a hunch that it gets better, but it was nice to get some confirmation.  The only thing that I don't agree with in the article is qualifying these years as "dark."  I don't feel as this time in my motherhood is dark, but I do think that it is intense and strenuous.  Young children need so much physically from their parents, especially a mother I think.  I certainly feel the weight of it every time I imagine going out with my three young children in tow - and that is just the imaginary weight!  The actual weight seems proportionate to the stature of my children and how far to the ground I feel as though I am being pulled!

Here is an exerpt.  The whole article can be read here.

"...I didn’t know it at the time, but Tom and I were in the “Tunnel of Parenthood: The First Five Years.” Now that we have emerged from the Tunnel, I have grown more and more convinced that those were indeed the hardest years.

It’s not the mere fact of having children under the age of five in the home that makes it the Tunnel; it’s going through the parenting of children under five for the first time. The very young child’s stages of development are rapid-fire and, when you’ve never experienced them before, are at times baffling. It all slows down after age five. Meaning, the differences between a 1-year-old and a 2-year-old are vast compared to the differences between a 5-year-old and a 6-year-old. It is a literal whirlwind from zero to five.


More than that, in the first few years, parents are “on duty” all the time in a very physical way. It can be plain exhausting when the little ones are getting all of their needs met by Mom and Dad, and those needs are immediate and primal. Feed me! Change my diaper! Hold me! Play with me! Make my dollie talk! Push me on the swing! And on and on. I remember when the mere act of strapping three young kids into their car seats was like an athletic event. Parenting in the Tunnel requires a very bodily sacrifice from Mom and Dad.
...
When in public, I enjoy searching out parents who are in the Tunnel. It turns out they’re very easy to spot, and not just for the obvious reason that there are babies and toddlers crawling on them. There’s a subtle look of shock on their faces, maybe a combination of sleep deprivation, battle fatigue and confusion. It is always fun to approach them and tell them, “Congratulations!” Then, I tell them that they are in the Tunnel of Parenthood and that it’s the hardest part. They may look bewildered at first, then relieved like I was."


And this is my "life-in-the-tunnel" vignette:

The other morning I took the kids to Mass and it was a rainy day. Upon arriving at the church, first I had to get myself out of the car, open the side door where Clara is, get an umbrella and then wedge it between the door and the car to allow me to get Clara out and into my sling without getting too wet. Meanwhile I am instructing Joseph to unbuckle himself. I get Clara in the sling, walk around to the other side of the car, open the door on Simon's side and wedge the umbrella as I did before to unbuckle Simon with 15 lb Clara strapped to my chest. I take the umbrella in one hand and Simon's hand in the other to guide him out of the car so that he doesn't slip on the wet pavement and keep him kind of dry. Meanwhile Joseph is making his way out of the car and complaining about the rain and asking to hold the umbrella. I can't let him do that because I'm the tallest and I need to keep Clara dry, so he hides himself under the tail of my sling - covering much of his face so that he can't see very well- and since he is tethered in this way, we take little baby steps shuffling across the parking lot to make our way into the church. And there's many stairs up to the chapel. I continue to hold Simon's hand and the umbrella in my other hand and try to keep pace with Joseph - or allow him to keep pace with me, as it were. It was quite a production, and it always feels that way, but we made it. Then once we're in church I am just hoping and praying the boys will behave and Clara won't get fussy. Simon chose not to use his Best Church Behavior today so I am caught between trying to quiety hiss instructions at him, or let him do what he's doing  as long as he's quiet (lying on the floor, or sitting on a little stool or standing on a low window ledge).... but then decide I've allowed too much and I'm afraid he's going to do something noisy or inappropriate (climb the statues maybe?) so I step away from my seat and try to subtly stoop down with the 15 lb Clara strapped to my chest and hope I have chosen the best strategy to get him to behave... (gentle coaxing? stern admonition? bribe?) Well, ultimately none of those worked and we eventually had to leave the chapel because I was afraid Simon was getting to the point of being too distracting to others (just as we are coming to the most important part of the Mass, of course.) As I kneel down in the small foyer behind the main doors, I take a deep breath, close my eyes and try to concentrate for a few seconds - but not too many b/c if I don't keep an eye out, I'm afraid the boys will get into more mischief, and I still want them to practice proper behavior for Mass even though they know we're not in the chapel anymore. (Thankfully Joseph was in fact quite good during all this time.) And I still want to try to pray and get something out of this Mass if at all possible!
After all of that, we went grocery shopping while it was still raining - but if I've got everybody in the car and we're out, I must make it worth my while!  I only plan to go out and about in the car once a week under normal circumstances and usually not more than two stops when its just me and the kids.