Every night this past week, I have stood for ages and just watch my children as they slept at night.
I drink in their soft skin and sleepy faces, and marvel at how long and lanky their limbs suddenly seems to be, hanging out over the side of the mattress or stretched out across their beds.
This week, they finished 1st and 5th class. The school year, like every school year, went by in the blink of an eye. It’s crazy to think how it has been a whole school year since they started back last September. In so many ways, they are the same as they were then, and in so many ways they have changed too. A school year is an eternity and a mere moment, all rolled up in one.
My heart has felt both heavy and happy all week. Excited for the carefree days of summer holidays and the prospect of travel and time with family, yet aching over how fast it is all going by. How time seems to be slipping faster and faster through my fingers, and much as I try to slow it down, to stop and savour, to linger a little longer, my children are growing older in front of my eyes, and my heart is breaking and bursting in equal measure.
Please stay little for longer. Please stop growing. Please keep growing. I know people warn you how fast it all goes, but until you are living it, you don’t really understand. I didn’t, for sure. Maybe this is motherhood at its core – wanting to hold on to the past, wanting to enjoy the moment and wanting to see the amazing people our children turn into – all rolled up into one.
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If you are feeling all sorts of emotional this week too, it might help to know that you are not alone – that we are all in the same boat. This is an emotional week. You are allowed to grieve your children growing older while also celebrate how amazing it is to watch them grow. That, I think, is what motherhood is all about. It is hard and beautiful – all at once. And I am just so, so grateful to be allowed to do it.
I recently came across this beautiful blog post by Wonderoak – and it sums up so beautifully how I think we are all feeling right now:
“Dear kids, as you grow older…
Right now as I watch you sleep, I lean in so close I can feel your breath against my cheek. I think about the good moments today. I think about you touching my arm and telling me a story about a slug that you found by the water. I grin to myself alone in the dark. I think about our conversations and I realize how grown-up you’re becoming. How did it happen so fast?
You are perfect laying there so still; my heart swells like it might burst. Motherhood has made me so strong and so fragile at the same time. Since the day you were born I’ve worn my heart on the outside of my body. Everyday I fight against the urge to lasso the world and make it tame for you. I wish I could keep you in a bubble.
I wish I could keep you safe here with me forever, but I will use all my strength and I will give you wings instead my love; then I will cry the day you use them.
You are growing up and sometimes I still see you as little. That’s frustrating for you I know. I don’t trust you even though it’s time. I see it, but it can’t be. It was only one second ago that you crawled in my bed in the morning with just your diaper and we’d snuggle until the sun came up. It was only one second ago that you were sitting in your car seat behind me mimicking some choice words I shouted at traffic.
It was only one second ago that I had a tiny crew and no one was taller than my waist; It was only one second ago.
Everyone warned me of how fast it goes, but it didn’t make me ready.
I am often caught up in the busyness. A mess in the kitchen, an email I haven’t written yet, and a car that looks like a hurricane of crackers and juice ravaged the upholstery. There are meals to make, mountains of laundry to do, blankets needing to be soaked from a bloody nose last night…and there is the constant inner struggle with feeling like it’s too much, I can’t catch up.
I don’t want to miss any moments with you, but I do.
As I look at you beneath the blankets I wonder how it is possible your legs are so long and your arms so lanky. We bought you deodorant the other day and you need it more than I do. When I think about the times to come I feel excited, but so so scared. I know I’m going to close my eyes for a moment and my time with you will be coming to a close.
I can’t even handle the thought, so I don’t think.
I reach out and squeeze your hand.
I understand that book now. I understand why an old lady would sneak into her son’s room at night.
I love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living my baby you’ll be.
As long as I’m living I will remember you curled up on my chest. As long as I’m living I will cherish the moments of your chubby hand in mine. As long as I’m living…
I know you won’t understand until you have your own kids someday, and that’s okay. I didn’t understand either.
It is the greatest honour of my life to be your mom. You are truly a treasure that I’ve been entrusted with and I will never be the same. Your heart is so soft and tender, your eyes are bright and kind. You forgive me faster and love me harder than anyone I’ve ever met.
I have been raised by raising you, and I am so grateful.
Please stop growing; please keep growing.
Motherhood is constant grief and constant joy. It’s so much anticipation and so much letting go.
I love you forever and for always,
Mama.”
