Youngest Son announced to me yesterday that he no longer wanted me to walk him to the first grade door and wait with him. He told me that I could just drop him off and he’d wait with the other kids. And, by the way, there was no more hugging him in public.
This is one of those moments that parents expect to happen at some point. Your youngest child becomes quasi independent and you have to accept your new role in life. I’m not one of those mothers whose entire identity comes from my children. That being said, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad just the same.
I can’t tell you how many times I thought something like, “I can’t wait until this stage is over” (ie potty training, temper tantrums, not sleeping through the night, etc). Or, “things will be easier when…”. Some moms LOVE having babies and toddlers, but I have to admit that I enjoy having older children.
Still, when I allow Eldest Son to drive my car (why didn’t they come up with a brake for the passenger side?), write checks out for Teenage Daughter’s class trip to New York, or drop my first grader off without hugging him, I realize that time is going so fast.
My mom once told me that she went for one of her yearly physicals and filled out the ages of her adult children. She looked at the paperwork and thought to herself, “Whose children are these? I can’t have kids this old.” I can see it coming now – I’m right there with you, mom.