My oldest son turned 10 years old this June, and I’ve been having all the feelings that I’m sure most moms do after realizing they have been parenting for a full decade. As a mom to many, I experience lots of stages and needs daily, but his needs suddenly seem less and less and I’m not sure I’m quite ready for that, to be honest.
It seems a major milestone to enter the coveted double-digits and officially feels like he’s entering the pre pre-teen years.
Just recently he mostly stopped calling my momma; instead, I’m simply mom. By the end of the school year, he didn’t give me the hug and kiss that he needed before stepping off into the entrance as he did at the beginning of the year. My momma heart broke just a little.
He can make his own omelets now, and he even graces me with my cup of coffee and perfectly frothed and rationed creamer on the days he feels like he wants to impress me with his skills.
He doesn’t engage in much make-believe with his little brothers anymore; he’d rather be out back practicing his flag football routines or out front shooting hoops.
He doesn’t need a booster seat in the car, and he can easily zip around on his bike in our neighborhood these days. Most recently, we’ve given him the independence to walk down to his friends’ houses in the neighborhood without our guidance. He can put away his own clothes (when he wants to, of course), read chapter books, and complete PowerPoint slides for class assignments.
I really don’t know why the pacifier addicted, first-born little 5 lb 3 oz love thought he could just go off and grow up so quickly. Alas, here we are.
Breathe it in. Soak it in. Stay present.
It goes by in the blink of an eye.
You’ll look back one day and think of these as the Good Old Days.
You only get 18 summers together.
You can work the rest of your life.
We’ve all heard these pieces of advice as soon as we become parents.
And though this advice and wisdom is most certainly true, my gosh this phase has been so beautiful in its own right.
Someone once told me (at the time she had four grown children) that motherhood “just keeps getting better,” and I like to remind myself of that when I’m feeling nostalgic or sad that seasons have passed.
Imagine the day when your grown children, their spouses, your grandchildren are all gathered together around a huge dining room table, enjoying a Christmas dinner.
Imagine the day when your child lands his first successful job and buys that first home to call his own.
It just keeps getting better. In different ways, yes, but all so joyful, too.
Instead of getting caught up in the moments that have already so quickly passed us by, I’m being intentional on why these years are also going to be amazing, even if it means I’m needed a little less for the physical needs. I might not be his whole world anymore {i.e., he doesn’t need me to rock him to sleep anymore, he may not wake up to only want mom anymore, he doesn’t rely on me for food), but that doesnt mean I won’t be a part of his world forever.
Let him fly. Give him freedom and let him flock back to your nest on the hard days. Have tough conversations together and be proud of the empathy he has developed. Smile at his accomplishments and cheer him on for trying new things, for being brave or for helping a friend in need. Because, mama, YOU DID THAT! You helped him grow into the human he is becoming and you should be proud.
Yes, watching our children grow up before our eyes feels heavy sometimes – especially on milestone birthdays and the like – but imagine the years ahead and all the memories that have yet to be created.
Relish in that and smile, mama.
It just keeps getting better.
