Growing Pains

I’ve known for some time that it was going to happen, years actually, but none of that seems to matter now. It’s not like it snuck up on me or surprised me or came without warning, it came every bit as expected yet nothing like I expected at the very same time.

It’s been brewing for awhile now, I guess. The little boy who was all mine, who was, just a few short years ago, a baby who wanted nothing but mommy, the toddler whose owies, whose fears, whose needs, who demands all warranted instinctive cries for mommy is now a little boy. I started to really notice it several months ago when many of the cries for “mommy” somehow changed to “daddy”. In the evening, on the weekend, even in the middle night, it’s usually “daddy” now.

This afternoon he is playing at friend’s house. Not being babysat by a friend’s mom, not being watched while mommy goes to the dentist or a doctor’s appointment, simply playing at a friend’s house because he wants to. That’s a first.

Next Friday he starts pre-school. Another first. Two and a half hours every other day away. Away from mom, away from home. It’s strange to physically see him go from being Ross and Katie’s son to really becoming Tyler. A little boy, operating independent of his parents, becoming responsible for his own actions, forming his own identity.

I have heard it said that having a child is like having a piece of your heart walking around outside your body and I get that, I just didn’t know what it would feel like to not have that piece walking right beside you, holding your hand, under your careful eye and in your constant care. As excited as I am for him to learn and grow and try new things, I can’t help but feel like I am beginning to lose something that I have nurtured and protected and guarded nearly every hour of every day for the past 4 years. I am not really sure how you just put a backpack on that and walk away.

At the same time that my stomach does flips over all these changes, I find it all quite silly. Kids start pre-school all the time, sappy moms cry, life goes on and kids grow up. But all of those others moms, they weren’t me. And all of those other kids, they weren’t mine. I guess it’s kind of like getting pregnant, you can prepare for the baby, you can plan for it, you can talk to all of your friends about it and gather all of the advice that’s out there, but until you are there, having that baby or watching that piece of your heart walk away – even if just for a few hours at a time – you will never really know what it’s like. And, what’s more, once you do, there is no going back.

So in a few weeks I may be over it and thanking God for a few precious hours alone with my baby girl, a couple of hours with a quieter house, at least half a day with 50% fewer tornados messing up the house, but for now, well, it just feels a little sad.