My kids are 13 and 10 now.

Which means I’ve reached that beautiful parenting phase where I remember having babies… but only in soft lighting.

I remember the snuggles.
I remember the baby smell.
I remember tiny socks.

I do not remember the 3:17 a.m. identity crisis while Googling,
“Is it normal for a baby to blink like this?”

Mom Brain is generous like that.

But now my sister is in it.

And I get to relive the newborn stage in the most luxurious way possible:

From afar.

“Oh I’ll hold him.”
“I’ll rock him.”
“I’ll make silly faces.”

And then — like a well-rested fairy godmother —
I hand him back and go home to my children who sleep through the night and wipe themselves.

It’s magical.

Naturally, I try to be helpful.

“Have you considered…?”
“Maybe try…?”
“This worked for me…”
“I read somewhere…”

Because hello? I survived this. I have data. Charts. Emotional scar tissue.

And almost every time, I get:

“We’re doing it this way.”
“We don’t want to do that.”
“Maybe, but we’re trying this first.”

And I realized something.

Being a new parent is exactly like being a teenager.

You think you know everything.
You’re convinced your way is different.
You’re positive no one has ever experienced what you’re experiencing.
You absolutely do not need advice from someone who “doesn’t get it.”

Sound familiar?

It’s the same energy.

The only way to learn is to try it your way…
watch it implode…
and then pretend you were going to do it the other way anyway.

And here’s where it gets really good.

Lately, I’ve been hearing the exact same phrases from two very different humans — my sister and my 13-year-old:

“You’re right.”
“You told me that would happen.”
“I hate when someone else is right.”
“You always know what to do.”

Almost like…

I was once a teenager.
And once a new parent.

Almost like experience quietly sits in the corner eating popcorn while the rest of us figure it out.

And then I remembered the plaque my mom gave me years ago.

It said:

“Told you so.”

Three words.
No explanation.
Just a smile.

At the time, I rolled my eyes.

Now?

I get it.

(And if you want the full story behind that plaque and the sweet justice of that moment, you can read it here.)

Because motherhood is one long relay race of wisdom no one wants… until they’ve earned it the hard way.

One day you’re the teenager.
One day you’re the new parent.
And one day you’re the one quietly watching, holding back advice, knowing exactly how this is going to go.

And if we’re lucky?

We get to hand someone a baby…

and maybe a plaque.

Sweet justice.

Have you ever watched a new parent (or teen) do something exactly the hard way — and realized, “Yep, been there”?

I’d love to hear your moments of parenting déjà vu in the comments — the funny, the humbling, the “aha” moments.