[yellow_box] Motivation Mondays are back on Little Kids Grow! [/yellow_box]
Time in a Bottle
Recently, my kids found a box of old baby pictures that I had stored in my closet. Yep, the ones that I was supposed to put into a cute little baby album 7 or 8 years ago. They emptied out the box of more than 200 pictures, and all 6 kids sat on the floor for hours laughing and reminiscing. The pictures were newborn up to around age 3, so what they had to reminisce about, I’m not exactly sure, but it was like they’d just found time in a bottle. The most endearing part was to hear my older kids share stories with the younger ones about what they remembered.
One of the most difficult parts of motherhood for me is how quickly the time flies by. As a homeschooling parent, I see my kids pretty much 24/7, but somehow that doesn’t keep the time wheels from turning so fast. They just keep spinning, and every time I blink, I feel like I”m losing about 6 months.
Maybe my extreme procrastination in filing those pictures has a root cause. As memories continue to build up and push “my babies” toward adulthood, I find myself wanting to yell, “No wait! I”m not ready, yet!”. Our oldest is 13 now and he already knows how to drive. He has 3 years before he can get his license, but his granddad gives him lessons every week, just as he did me when I was the same age. My 11-year old girls can fit my clothes AND my shoes, and they’re only 2 or 3 inches away from being taller than me, and I’m not a short girl. My other 3 boys are on the same path. They’d rather hop, skip, and jump 2 spaces ahead of me than hold my hand in public, and they think that “mommy kisses” are for wiping off.
On the flip side of what feels like a sweet loss, from time to time I catch a small glimpse of the real underlying beauty of motherhood, like when my 10-year old holds the door open for me or offers to help me down the stairs now that my pregnant body seems to teeter dangerously away from my center of gravity. Or when my 5-year-old peeks into my office on one of my busy days and says, “Mommy, I just wanted to check on you”. Or, when we take a family walk, and I notice that my girls “sashay” or tilt their heads back “just so” when they laugh, just like me. Maybe what I view as independence on their part is actually the switching of roles, the dance of codependency, as I now learn to lean on them for support, as well.
I’m still a mom, but I’m in transition. I now nurture from a close distance, hold hands when they make the first move, and try not to swallow hard when one of my girls asks to borrow my sweater. It’s a delicate balancing act between the beginning stages of letting go and the latent stage of “stay close to mommy just a little while longer”.
And just to think, I’m only a few months away from starting the process all over again.
Am I the only one who feels this way?
Keep doin’ what you love!