The rocking chair squeaks in tune to your lovingly-sung lullabye. A shadow is cast perfectly from the dim light across your baby’s face, his long lashes resting quietly along his chubby cheeks. You take a deep breath, soak him in, wanting to squeeze him but careful not to wake him. Don’t blink, you tell yourself, it goes so fast. You know you’re gonna miss this.
It’s true. You will.
My view from the other side of childhood, with three sons in different phases of launching their own lives, is different than yours. Most evenings are quiet at my house– the boys don’t need rides and they are managing their schedules, well, without a lot of my help. Dinner is made and they heat it up when they get home; after that I sit with them late in the evening having hard conversations about their plates that are so full. I miss when I was you. But you are afraid– and maybe even envious– of where I am. I’m not going to tell you how much it hurts when they leave (it does) or how hard the teenage years are (they are), you hear that enough. Instead, I want you to hear what I wish I’d known then, when I was you, drinking in my babies wishing time would stand still.
Perfect Isn’t Real
You don’t have to be perfect. That Pinterest fail of a birthday cake? Nobody cared but you. The letter from the kindergarten teacher reminding you about the snack you forgot last week? You aren’t the only one who received one. Your three-year-old wouldn’t let you take any pictures of her first day of preschool? It’s okay, I promise. I’ve heard it said comparison is the thief of joy– agreed. And perfectionism is comparison’s BFF and you can’t win with either of them. Your kids don’t need a perfect momma, they need a loving one. A momma that is loving toward them, but just as importantly, loving to herself. Perfection is overrated.
Beauty is in the Struggle
Everything I thought I wanted for my sons was wrong. Well, not wrong, just not complete. Our collective go-to answer when asked what we want for our children is for them to be happy. We want their days filled with sunshine and friendship and success. But you know what? It’s so much pressure to be in charge of another human being’s happiness– for them and for us. Too much in fact. Welcome the notion of struggle; allow failure. Struggle is designed to unearth our kids’ strength and resilience; it helps them to grow deep empathy and kindness for others. As proud as we are when our kids are successful, the power of pride and joy that comes from seeing them overcome the challenges and obstacles in their way far outweighs the temporary relief we feel in postponing the inevitable. Pain comes. Discomfort comes. Allow it. Because it also passes.
It Doesn’t Get Easier
You are so tired. I know you are, I am too. I don’t think that ever changes. Mothering doesn’t get easier, it’s different. It becomes less physical and heavy on the heart and soul in a way I didn’t anticipate. It’s hard. But you can do hard things, you do them already.
Listen More Demand Less
I wish I would have listened a lot more and demanded compliance a lot less. Listen, when they can’t meet the expectations you’ve set, get curious. Ask why, ask them what’s in their way. Don’t assume you know the answer and don’t assume you can provide the solution. Kids are smart– they know their own heart and their wisdom may surprise you.
You Will Miss Them
As if you don’t know this. It took five hours to drive home from dropping my oldest off at college and I cried the entire time. The whole way. My heart was broken. I cried again when he flew to California for the summer for an internship– I mean California, it’s so far away! I missed the weight of him in our home and I desperately missed his purpose in my life. But, I got used to our new normal and so did he. Now I welcome texts about exam grades, work schedules and even questions about how to cook a roast in his crock pot. Our relationship is deep, and nothing, not his distance or age, can change who we are to each other. Our kids growing up isn’t everything, but it’s not nothing either. It’s something, and that something changes as you both settle into your new relationship and your new roles.
For now, settle into that rocker and sing every lullabye you know, and a few you make up. Take deep breaths of that sweet baby smell. Leave damp kisses on his cheeks and don’t worry if he wakes up. Don’t blink.
