Not long ago, my 21-year-old son, Jake, wandered into the kitchen asking for assistance in making a cup of coffee. If you’ve ever used one of those modern Keurig machines, you know they are quite straightforward. Simply open the compartment, insert a K-cup filled with coffee, select your desired size, and press “Brew.” Easy, right?
But here’s the twist: Jake is my firstborn. He grew up with a very enthusiastic mom who eagerly laid out his clothes each night, cut off sandwich crusts, and peeled apples for him. Now, I find it challenging just to remember to buy apples, much less peel them.
I had to suppress a chuckle when he asked for help. However, as he plopped down with his iPhone, it became clear that he wasn’t really looking for guidance; he just wanted me to make the coffee for him. “Alright,” I instructed, “go over to the machine and open it.” I guided him through the steps, and soon enough, he was savoring a steaming cup of coffee.
Shortly thereafter, my 11-year-old son, Ethan, entered the kitchen and prepared an omelette. He heated a pan, cracked an egg into a bowl, added some egg whites from the fridge, sprayed the pan with cooking spray, and whipped up his breakfast. After dousing it in Frank’s Hot Sauce, he settled down to watch “Drake and Josh” while sipping hot chocolate he made using the Keurig.
The contrast between my first and fourth child never ceases to amaze me. It’s incredible to witness how the younger ones have thrived from the experiences their brother has paved for them, while my oldest often hesitated to do things independently due to my overprotection. He’s fully capable, as demonstrated when I dropped him off for his summer internship an hour away. This opportunity requires a business-casual wardrobe and a grown-up demeanor. Watching him pour a bowl of Reese’s Puffs that morning, I was struck by how much he has matured.
Leading up to his first day, we certainly did our fair share of hand-holding. We shopped for professional attire, secured his monthly bus pass, and even practiced navigating a commuter lot for parking. Reading the bus schedule proved a bit tricky, but that’s to be expected; he’s never had to manage such responsibilities before. The younger siblings have been fortunate to learn from his experiences—whether it’s picking up an instrument or applying to college.
So, watching him step out of the car and join the crowd for the commuter bus was a bittersweet moment. I wanted to jump out and ensure he boarded the right bus, but I contained myself and drove away, catching a glimpse of his new jacket fading from view in the rearview mirror.
He texted me later, letting me know he was on the bus and en route (thumbs-up emoji). “Thanks for the ride and everything else, Mom,” he wrote, followed by heart emojis. It reassured me that despite our occasional clashes, he understands that I’m always in his corner.
There’s a delicate balance between being a hovering parent and offering genuine support. I hope to find that balance, especially as I anticipate the day when my youngest will head into the world, hopefully more prepared because he’s observed his older siblings navigate their own paths.
But for now, I cherish my little boy who still hugs me for no reason, belts out Maroon 5 in the shower, and occasionally forgets to use shampoo. Time flies—one moment you’re handing your child a juice box, and the next, it’s a travel mug. It’s a common sentiment, yet when you’re in the thick of parenting, it feels endless. Then suddenly, it’s not.
I’m eagerly looking forward to picking him up from the bus later and celebrating his first day with a special dinner. Although he’s transitioned from casual skater attire to dress pants and a button-up, he will forever remain my baby.
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Summary:
In this reflective piece, Jessica Larson shares her experiences as a parent, highlighting the differences in upbringing between her first and youngest children. While her oldest son, Jake, seeks assistance with simple tasks like making coffee, her youngest, Ethan, has developed independence through observing his siblings. As her children grow, she navigates the challenges of parenting with both pride and nostalgia, recognizing the fleeting nature of childhood.