Well hello!  It’s been a while since I’ve guest posted but my lovely wife made the mistake of giving me a username and password so I’m back.  I figured I’d give my perspective about living with a SAHM, or at least this particular one.

First of all it is very comforting to know that Eli is with Allison all day.  Don’t get me wrong we had wonderful daycare providers and they did a great job with Eli, but now if I want to know how he’s doing or what they are doing together I can just call or better yet use Google Chat to ask.  Sometimes she even responds! On top of that they can visit me at work or I can stop by and see them at lunch if I want to.

It’s also nice to know that staying at home with Eli makes her so happy.  I don’t mean that it’s not a challenge at times or she and Eli are having a party every day all day…oh man, I bet they’re partying every day with out me.  I quit work!  I want to party!  No seriously though, even though staying at home makes her happy that doesn’t mean it’s easy.  So one thing I have had to get used to is coming home to a usually exhausted, sometimes unresponsive and occasionally extra sassy wife.  Wait is “extra sassy” a synonym for “crabby”?  No?  Then I mean crabby.

So my weeknights are filled with a hyper toddler and a tired mother who is usually very willing to hand me the aforementioned toddler for some bonding time with Dad-oo.  They are also filled with a lot more organization than usual with all the planned meal lists, momma and Eli activities and bedtime rituals.  What is really great is to hear and see everything Eli is learning and know that he is doing so right at home with his family.

I guess I can summarize by saying that living with a SAHM is the comfort of knowing that Eli is romping around town with his mother, a wife who is happier and more fulfilled spending the days raising Eli, and a Dad-oo who gets to spend the majority of my nights jabbering with a toddler about today’s toddler issues.  It’s also a consistently tired momma who blogs at night and looks forward to wine and homemade pizza on Friday (like, a lot).

One of my favorite things about being a stay-at-home mom are the milestones. There’s almost no way that I will miss them. The first year alone is filled with so many wonderful things. Smiling. Laughing. Sitting Up. Rolling Over. Baby food. Crawling. Table food. And best of all, walking. Unfortunately, I was a working momma during most of these milestones. I still like to think that I witnessed all of the kiddo’s firsts, but let’s face it, he was in daycare for 9 hours out of the day. There’s a pretty good chance that I missed one or two, but please don’t burst my bubble. I’m happy in my little dream world.

This week marked the beginning and the end. Two milestones that I got to witness firsthand. One of which I’m certain that I would have missed, because it happened slowly.

First, the end.

A few weeks ago, I talked about savoring those little moments. The ones that make up our lives, the moments that we easily overlook and forget. For me, one of those moments is the cozy. The few minutes after bath time, before PJs, where I bundle up my kiddo in his towel, wrap my arms around him, and lift him off the ground, squeezing and rocking, while we both say “cozy, cozy, cozy, cozy”. This always gets a giggle and requests for more cozy. Until this week, when I was denied the cozy. Sadly, I think that this marks the end of his tolerance for mega cuddle time with momma.

And then, the beginning.

It’s not often that I’m woken in the middle of the night by a crying toddler, but this week I was pulled from my slumber by shrill cries. The type of cry that you jump out of bed for. The type of cry that causes you to instantly be awake, even at 3:00 in the morning. As I raced in his room, I was greeted by a sleepy face covered in tears. And whispers of “arrrrrr’s scary”.

I leaned closer, “What’s scary?”

“arrrrrr’s scary”

“Sweetpea, I can’t understand you. What’s scary?”

“Rocka’s scary” (his rocking giraffe)

Well, that’s easy enough to fix. Once Rocka was safely hidden outside of the room, all was right with the world.

The next morning it dawned on me, this was the first time the kiddo was able to tell me why he was crying in the middle of the night. He was able to articulate what was bothering him. He knew how to put his feelings into words. In the toddler world, and in my world, that’s a huge accomplishment. My kiddo, bursting with opinions, emotions and needs, now knows how to express them.

This change happened so slowly, so subtly, that I honestly believe if I didn’t spend my days with him, I would have missed it. I wouldn’t have picked up on the subtle ways that he started filling in his sentences. Using words like the, an, had, I am. But I did notice. I did see the change. I was there to witness if first hand. And for that, I am forever grateful that I am blessed to be a stay-at-home-mom.

This week officially marked the end of my cuddly, needy toddler, and marked the beginning of my independent, willful toddler. And all I can think is, I’m going to miss this.

What stage do you miss the most? Baby? Toddler? Teenagers?