Parenting Thursday: My Favorite Milestone (So Far)

Ironflower was born very fully baked. She was so fully baked that she even had incredibly long fingernails. I remember being completely impressed by them, at least until they scratched me.

Er, I guess I should have found a picture with her fingers uncurled. 

I believe we persuaded (begged? I was practically hallucinating from lack of sleep and painkillers, I have no idea) the nurses to cut her fingernails originally, but after we got home it was up to us. I quickly passed that duty onto Hot Guy. Mainly because I was doing the whole exclusive breastfeeding thing and figured he should do everything else. But also because I have poor fine motor skills. 

Then, of course, he missed and made her bleed. . . .fingernail grooming has been my job ever since. Which is not to say that I've never caused bleeding, but apparently I handle harming the children better than he does. 

That's probably nothing to brag about, is it?

Anyway, we've recently reached a milestone around here. After almost nine years and well over 7 years of regularly harming (or at least terrifying) them, I am proud to say that Ironflower and Lovebug are now cutting their own nails. The level of freedom and joy this brings me is right up there with not needing to buy diapers or sippy cups anymore. 

No, it's better. I have fond memories of some diaper changes. I have fond memories of teaching them to drink from sippy cups. I have absolutely NO fond memories of cutting their nails. . . .just a lot of guilt. It's not that I consistently cut them (not since their nails got bigger, anyway), but it's that we all hate it. And filing was not really any better - my kids have the healthiest nails on the planet, the only way to control them is through judicious trimming. So yeah, unlike, say, getting rid of the stroller, I have no ambivalence about the saying good-bye to nail grooming. 

I wonder if I could train Hugmonkey to cut his own nails? Sure, he's not quite five and still has trouble with scissors, but still. He actually starts screaming before I get anywhere near his toes, I've traumatized him that much. Or maybe listening to his screaming siblings did it, I kind of developed a knack for it by the time I got to him. I hardly ever made him bleed or cut his nails too short. I bet I'd be really good at it if I ever had a fourth kid. 

Except then I wouldn't be almost free of the whole dreadful process. I'm telling you, as soon as Hugmonkey can cut a zigzagged line? I am definitely teaching him to cut his own nails. 

And then I'm going to have a glass of champagne.