As my children grow older, my friends and I often find ourselves in awe of our once-tiny toddlers who are now blossoming into young adults, complete with long legs, deepening insights, and the unmistakable signs of adolescence. “They’re becoming real,” we whisper, recalling the days when they were just soft, chubby bundles of joy. “They’re like real people.” These young ones surprise us with their humor and thoughts, and it’s evident they no longer fit snugly under our chins.
Marking my 40th birthday alongside my eldest child’s 12th has been a significant turning point for both of us. Each shared joke or comfortable silence during our drives to volleyball practice reminds me that transformation is a two-way street.
The Skin Horse, a character from a cherished story, embodied the wisdom of age. He had seen more days in the nursery than any of the other toys, his coat worn and patched, reminiscent of the journey I’ve taken as a parent. After four children, my own appearance has changed—I’ve nurtured life within me, and my body tells that story through stretch marks and graying hair. While I feel stronger than ever, the evidence of my journey is unmistakable, and my seams are beginning to show.
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse, “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.” I remind myself that my visible wear is a testament to the love I’ve received. I’ve spent countless nights cradling a baby or comforting a feverish child. I’ve been greeted by joyous little ones running to hug me and have spent moments reading bedtime stories with a child snuggled close, their little fingers tracing my arm. Each act of love from my children has fueled me through the most exhausting times.
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit. “Sometimes,” the Skin Horse replied. “When you are Real, you don’t mind being hurt.” Indeed, it has hurt at times—through slammed doors, harsh words, and moments of helplessness as my children faced their struggles. Those are the heartaches that threaten to break me, yet they also introduce the Magic of parenting.
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” the Skin Horse explained. “You become. It takes a long time.” I see this journey reflected in my friends and me, warriors navigating the challenges of parenthood. We’ve weathered difficult pregnancies, unexpected diagnoses, and the pain of loss. We’ve fought battles for our health and witnessed the struggles of loved ones. We are gaining wrinkles and losing some of our youthful vigor, but these experiences only enrich our understanding and connection with our children.
“But these things don’t matter at all,” the Skin Horse noted, “because once you are Real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” We recognize each other in various settings—whether at a pediatrician’s office or a school event—understanding that our journeys are all part of Becoming Real as parents.
Looking into the eyes of our own parents, we see the years etched in their features—years filled with love, life, and magic. This is what it truly means to become Real.
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In summary, the journey of parenthood transforms both the parent and child in profound ways. Embracing this evolution, with all its challenges and joys, leads to a deeper understanding of what it means to be Real.