Every day, I find myself pondering the same thought: “Am I the only one who feels this way?” I quickly affirm, “Absolutely not, it’s perfectly fine!” Lately, however, I’ve begun to wonder why I don’t share the same sentiment as many others around me. Social media is flooded with posts saying things like “I miss my little ones!” or “Time, please slow down!” While I appreciate a good nostalgic moment, my immediate reaction is often, “How far back are we really talking?”
Sure, I cherish the memories of my children as babies, but I have no desire to return to that phase. Do I want to revisit those sleepless nights spent watching my newborn son’s chest rise and fall, just to ensure he’s breathing? No thanks—I’d rather enjoy a full night’s sleep. And those endless hours of trying to calm my daughter when she cried for no reason? Pass.
I vividly recall a particularly exhausting day when my son was about four months old. After an entire day of the eat, sleep, cry routine, I was at my wit’s end. I decided to take him to the pediatric after-hours clinic, dragging my toddler along. My mom had left a generous hundred-dollar bill on my nightstand during her last visit (that’s just how she rolls), and I was ready to use that cash to skip the wait. I would have gladly handed it to a stranger just to get my baby to calm down. So, do I really want to go back to that chaotic time? Absolutely not.
I genuinely love watching my children grow up—is that a crime? I adore the individuals they are becoming. I love seeing them navigate life and ask insightful questions. I appreciate that they are forming their own opinions and preferences, even when they differ from mine.
I relish the fact that my son can articulate when he feels unwell or that my daughter can aim perfectly when she needs to be sick. I love that they can communicate effectively with doctors now. Plus, karaoke is so much more enjoyable these days!
I’m genuinely looking forward to my daughter’s upcoming third-grade year. I didn’t feel sad when my son started pre-K either; his enthusiasm was contagious! Their excitement for the future fills me with joy, and I can’t help but want to join them on this adventure. I don’t see their growth as something to mourn, but rather as a beautiful unfolding of their lives.
Ultimately, this journey is theirs, not mine. I’ve come to realize that I can’t cling too tightly to what isn’t mine. A quote I recently encountered struck a chord: “To raise a child who is confident enough to leave you means you’ve done your job. They are not ours to keep, but to teach how to soar.”
While I resonate with that sentiment, I also appreciate Elizabeth Taylor’s perspective: “I’ve never thought of my jewelry as trophies. I’m here to take care of them and love them, for we are only temporary custodians of beauty.”
I won’t deny that the thought of my children leaving for college brings a twinge of sadness, but I wouldn’t dream of discouraging their aspirations. Every night, I still gently check if they’re breathing as I kiss them goodnight—old habits die hard.
As much as it frightens me, I recognize that I am merely their temporary guardian; my role is to prepare them for their own flight. They are two of the brightest treasures in my life—unique, precious, and temporarily entrusted to me until they are ready to shine on their own.
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In summary, I embrace my children’s growth and the journey they are on, recognizing my role in nurturing them as they prepare to take flight.