As a mom, nothing gives me more comfort than this sentence: Everything is a phase.
I started hearing that–we probably all did– as a child. It was a common phrase from teachers talking to other teachers in elementary school: “Imaginary friends are just a phase. Coloring on the walls is just a phase. Not socializing with the other kids is just a phase.” Or I’d overhear my parents complaining about my teenage antics to other parents, and someone would say, “It’s just a phase; don’t worry too much.”
I didn’t give it much thought at the time. But now, as the mother of a 3-year-old son and 1-year-old daughter, I think about the phase phrase all the time.
I’m tearing my hair out because my son insists on reading “The Night Before Christmas”–which is LONG book, by the way–three times through while he lies in bed every night? It’s just a phase.
I’m beyond frustrated because my daughter is obsessed with water and the only way to prevent a tantrum is to let her play with open bowls of water on the living room carpet? It’s just a phase.
I’m about to scream into a pillow because it takes 15 minutes to get my son in the car every morning because he needs to run back inside at least four times to pee, change his socks, grab a graham cracker and whatever other stalling tactics he can think up? It’s just a phase.
My daughter keeps waking up at 5:15 a.m. because she wants to drink milk and watch Moana? It’s just a phase.
Sometimes, it’s the only thing that gives me solace.
I can’t face the idea of reading “The Night Before Christmas” three times every single night through January, February, March, and on and on forever. The only reason I’m able to do it now with any semblance of patience is because I know eventually, in a few days or a few weeks, my son will lose interest.
If I thought my daughter was going to wake up crying before the crack of dawn every morning indefinitely, I would probably sink into an anticipatory depression from anticipatory lack of sleep piling up. I’m able to get her up with a smile on my face because I know after a week or so, after whatever growth spurt or teething phase she’s passing through, she’s more than likely to start sleeping until a much more reasonable hour.
But also, “it’s just a phase” makes me a pushover
Of course, there’s the other side of “it’s just a phase,” the side that makes me more lax than I probably should be.
I let my daughter pour water all over the carpet because I know she won’t do it forever. But probably, I should set strict boundaries and ban all water play outside of the bathtub or pool.
I let my son change his socks for no reason and grab graham crackers even though I know he’s not going to eat them while he delays our departure. That’s because I know it gives him a sense of control in an uncontrollable world, and because I know he’ll stop doing it in a week or two.
Maybe I’m teaching my kids that they can get away with too many things. Maybe I’m not setting strict enough boundaries. Maybe my mom mantra makes me even more of a pushover than I naturally am.
Or maybe I’m being a patient mom and giving them just enough power to fulfill them on a daily basis.
I like to think it’s the second one, and that repeating the “this is a phase” mantra allows me to be as patient as I possibly can be during these chaotic and crazy toddler years.