My Ducklings

Make Way for Ducklings. It is a Boston based book about a pair of mallards that want to find a safe place to raise their ducklings. Mrs. Mallard hatches eight little ducklings and taught them all they needed to know while Mr. Mallard explored the area, looking for the perfect place to raise their family. After much searching, they landed on the Public Garden in Boston. Mrs. Mallard and their ducklings safely made her way to the Public Garden to meet Mr. Mallard where they basically lived happily ever after. There is a statute of Mrs. Mallard and her eight ducklings in the Public Garden. On one of our trips to Boston last spring, we were able to visit Mrs. Mallard with our own little ducklings. They made silly faces and stood in silly poses next to Mrs. Mallard and her eight little ducklings all in a row behind her.

Alright, time to make a leap with me from Boston to dinner about two weeks ago at our favorite hibachi restaurant. We had been running errands and decided to grab dinner so we popped into a place that knows us all too well. We ordered our drinks and then took the obligatory trip to the restroom to wash our hands. I took the boys this time while my hubs held down the fort. And by holding down the fort, I mean enjoying two minutes of quiet time with a Mai Tai. Anyways, on our walk to the bathroom, I took one path and the boys started off on their own. Realizing we were not walking the same way around the final hibachi table before we hit the hallway that led to the bathroom, both boys quickly backtracked and fell in line behind me. Certainly not an overly significant moment in our lives but for some reason my brain immediately thought of Mrs. Mallard and her ducklings. Suddenly, I found myself a bit misty-eyed.

Let’s be real, I can cry over a lot of things as a mom, but hibachi dinner seemed a bit of a stretch but here we are. Onward we go.

My two (there will never be eight…I applaud Mrs. Mallard but no thank you) little ducklings decided in that moment, to divert from their original path and take my path instead. This won’t always be the case in our lives together. And really, as a parent, that’s the goal. To give them a safe place and be their safe place. For a while. To help them grow and learn and eventually find their own path. In the beginning, they waddle behind you everywhere you go and for everything you do (I can confirm seeing as there are still times I can’t run to the bathroom without a break-in attempt) . Soon and without realizing it, their paths change and they’re not always behind you. That is our current chapter in life. Them starting to gain more and more independence in certain scenarios and for others, their little hands are still wrapped tightly around mine. Somehow hibachi dinner sent me on a dizzying path of my own. All the moments where their paths changed course from my own were now front and center.

When putting our ducklings to bed, we had a pattern. My husband and I switch off who reads at night. Whoever reads then puts our youngest to bed. For each boy that meant something slightly different. It was lounging on the beanbag next to our oldest’s bed and for our youngest, sitting next to him in his bed. Which also meant try to climb out of his bed without stirring him from slumber. Not an easy feat. Definitely failed that one a time or two. Recently we’ve adjusted our bedtime routine. We still read but rather than sitting with them until they fall asleep, we give hugs and kisses and send them to bed. They can read or play Legos or hang out in bed and when they’re ready, they turn their lights off and go to sleep.

Our youngest has adapted quite nicely. The hugs and kisses remain steady every night. But I no longer get the snuggles in bed next to him while he falls asleep. Or him sharing his blanket with me so that I wasn’t cold. Path diverted. Our oldest hasn’t warmed up as much to the change, so I will sneak in two minutes of sitting on his beanbag. And every night, as I settle into the coziness of the beanbag, he holds his hands open. Almost like a clam shell. Once my hand is settled between his, he closes his hands over mine and his sweet, tiny little fingers feel like they have found home. Their safe space. It makes me so happy that he can find such comfort in simply holding my hand. For now, our path in these moments remains the same, but as we continue with this change to the bedtime routine, those moments will be fleeting. Eventually, he won’t need or want to hold my hand in his as he falls asleep. As incredible as watching them grow is, these moments certainly squish my mama heart just a bit.

Last summer, we were are our local pool and the boys wanted to visit the snack shack. I got up to take the trip with them, when our oldest announced that he wanted to go without me. Just him and his brother. I was a bit shocked but gave them some money and a few instructions. One treat each and I would need change back at the end. I sat down on our blankets and watched them saunter over to the snack shack. They spoke with the attendant for a minute and returned with one snack each. Unfortunately, our oldest’s snack was not safe for him (allergy wise) so I said I would go back up with him to chat with the attendant about what he could eat that would be safe. Our son absolutely refused. He took one of his allergy cards (basically business cards that outline all his allergies) and marched himself right back up to the snack shack, handed his card over, had a conversation about what was safe and not and came back with an allergy friendly snack in hand. Granted, rather than one snack, he came back with eight ring pops and no change in tow (relax, he was only allowed to have one), he did it on his own. Advocated for himself. Figured it all out without me nearby. Big diversion in that path. Extremely proud mama.

One that really took me out lately was when I dropped the boys off at school. The bus has forever been our normal routine, but due to some very specific circumstances, we now drop them off at school. I took them one morning, which is also not the norm. Normally dad does drop-off. I do pickup from after school program. Anyways, this morning, I was managing drop-off, which always makes me sweat. So much pressure to make sure you’re in the line at the right time, moving up quite efficiently and getting wild animals out of your car in record time. Our turn came up quickly and before I had a second to think, the back door was flung open and both ducklings had jumped from the backseat. Our oldest out first and off like a flash. Our second followed suit. By the time my eyes were off the back seat, I could only see our youngest’s backpack bouncing up and down with each leap of his feet. There were no turn arounds to wave or say goodbye. Not a pause. Off they went, without hesitation. All of this is incredible. I want them to have that level of comfort in these situations where they can run forward. To friends. Their classroom. The rest of their day. But it also feels like it was only yesterday that they were snuggled into a carrier or grasping tightly onto my fingers as they took their first steps forward.

There are so many more scenarios that come to mind. But those are for another time and another place. And maybe with a glass of wine in hand.

As we continue this chapter of our lives, each diverted path will create memories and moments that will last a lifetime. All the connected paths will do the same. So as we learn to manage when they change course away from us more than the times in which they waddle behind, it will be hard to remember not to adjust their direction to our own but to help them navigate those new paths with all the courage and grace and comfort and pride we can instill in them. I will relive the what-used-to-be’s and the what-are-no-longer moments without fail. There will be tears behind closed doors, for that I am sure. The fact is that there will be new adventures to replace the old. Ones to fill the gaps where there used to be baby carriers and tiny fingers wrapped around mine and blankets shared and sweet baby snuggles. And as squished as some of those used-to-be moments will make my heart, the immeasurable joy that I get simply from being their own Mrs. Mallard will propel me forward without hesitation.