Sunday, July 5, 2015
I'm Not Ready...?!
My oldest is going to be eight in a couple of months. His height is to my sternum, he lost his second front tooth a little while back and I can see his front teeth coming in at the same time. I feel a tinge of sadness... I'm not ready! He's getting so big and independent. It seems a distant memory for me to reflect on his infant and toddler years. Yes the time has flown, but the memories seem a lifetime away. I remember his serious stares. He was somewhat of a quiet baby, observing his surroundings and quietly taking it all in. Even when he was in his toddler years, he still was very comfortable being quiet until he decided one day to tell me what has been sitting on his heart. He's never stopped talking since :) My grandma Dot always told me her favorite age for each of her children was around eight years old. She could carry on a conversation with them, get their brain thinking and dialogue was possible. I am starting to see what she means. I love babies, obviously. The smell, the cuddles, the newness of it all. However, I do see something very sweet about my children getting older. They make me laugh. I can make them laugh....hard. They ask me questions and wait for an answer, trying to comprehend what I am saying. They are becoming more independent, which makes my list of things to do for them slightly dwindle. They make me laugh out loud on and off all day with their witty humor and inquisitive minds. When they do independent things, my heart swells. I was pretty independent growing up. Being a latch key kid, I had no choice but to grow up fast and be on my own. I feel that helped me be the way I am today, which is fiercely independent. I want to instill that same thing in them, preparing them for real life. To be excited for adulthood, rather than scared. I know I still have many years with my little ones, Lord willing, but I am determined to not look back at their younger years with too much sadness. We are having so much fun together. I'm sure this mama's heart will be nostalgic for the younger years, but I look forward to many conversations with my boys and many opportunities to raise them healthy, strong and God fearing. I can't wait until they are taller than me, but I still get to kiss them on the cheek. They will still call me Mama. I will probably laugh like I do when I see them change. Then when they are on their own, I will probably cry :) Ah, motherhood.