I once heard parenthood described as a long process of separation. It made sense to me then, but now I really understand it. I also really understand why people told me, when my first child was born, that it “goes so fast.” At first, it was hard to grasp. A baby is so much work and so present. They change quickly, but they need you in such a physical way for such a long time. But then, after a while, you realize that things have changed.
As silly as it seems, since my kids are still so young (ages three and barely six), I am mourning that they are no longer babies and that my kids are growing up. I’m sure it’s just the tiniest inkling of what’s to come, but mourning just the same. I think it is due to the fact that my eldest started kindergarten this fall and is gone from 8:30 to 3:00 every day. Then, my younger son potty-trained himself in early September. I went from being a diaper-changing mother with two pre-school age kids with me at home all the time to a mom that misses her oldest child and sees her younger one getting more independent every minute. There have been other changes too. Jasper, the kindergartner, just learned to tie his shoes. As nice as it is that he can tie his shoes, I just lost another opportunity to actually touch him. He can shower by himself (although sometimes he still takes a bath and I help him wash his hair), dress himself, feed himself, brush his teeth, go to the bathroom by himself. He has attained a certain level of independence. As positive as that is, it is heartbreaking for me at the same time.
I was also not prepared for what it would be like to send a child to school all day. Prior to this year, I have had control over his activities, and knew who he was with and what he was doing all the time. He was in preschool for 2 ½ hours every day last year, but at pick-up time I would always chat with his teachers and find out what he liked to do, who he played with, what funny things he said. Now, I send him to school for 6 ½ hours and then press him for details afterwards. The information he gives me is spotty at best. I have very little contact with his teacher and almost no feedback from her at all. All I can do is scan him for signs. Does he talk about new friends he’s meeting? Does he seem happy? Does he enjoy going to school? Does he seem to be learning new things? Is he a good listener? Does he follow directions? Does he raise his hand and ask questions? He likes school and all signs are positive, but it is still a leap of faith letting my child go off to school every in the care of adults I don’t know.
My three-year old is still home with me of course, and I cherish my time with him. But since the beginning of the school year I feel time passing quickly and I feel my time with him slipping away like grains of sand through my fingers. I understand now why people end up having more babies than they originally planned.
I think letting go has more to it than just seeing your child begin to separate from you. It is seeing your child become a full, individual human being with his own interests, thoughts, feelings, disposition, sense of humor, etc. Of course that seems very normal, you think. How could I have ever thought it would be different than that? But I realize that I have more wrapped up in my hopes for my children than I thought I did.
When you hold your baby, your baby is perfect and has had few experiences. You look at that baby and wonder what he or she will be like. I thought I would be the type of parent who believes that nature mostly forms the child, and I would provide the nurture that would help that baby to best realize his or her potential and be happy and well-adjusted.
By the time a child is five, the child has a very defined personality and interests, and many talents and weaknesses have already appeared. I fully believe that many changes take place after that, and that a child that is shy may become outgoing, and a child that hates sports may learn to love them, and a child will develop many interests that haven’t shown up yet. On the other hand, the differences emerge early and kids do fall into different camps. Some are incredibly cautious and some are fearless daredevils. Some like commotion and crowds and parties and some like calm, quiet and few people around. Some love to draw and some love to perform for others. Some are intense and sensitive and some roll with the punches. The differences go on and on. I love these differences in children and enjoy meeting and knowing all different types. I also look at my own and wonder if I’m doing the right things for them. I understand how complicated this parenting thing gets past the baby stages. I see my almost-six-year old and realize that he’s just a little person. I realize that I don’t want him to have my weaknesses and that I have a strong reaction if he seems to display one of my negative traits. If one of my children experiences sadness or pain, similar bad experiences come flooding back to me from my childhood and I want to protect them. Sadly, and this is surely a sign of neurosis, even if nothing particularly bad happens to my child but it simply seems like something bad could have happened, I still get my flooding negative emotions from past bad experiences. I find myself hoping they have confidence in certain areas that I never had, that they don’t make my mistakes and that they aren’t afraid to try the things I was afraid to try. I find myself giving them passionate discourses with tears in my eyes about how anyone can try anything and they shouldn’t be afraid to do new things or stand up for themselves or express their opinions or ask questions.
I don’t want to be a parent that projects her shortcomings, neurosis and fears on to her children. If I feel that I didn’t do something or try something that I should have, then I may as well try it now and let my kids be their own people. There is no particular indication that either one is just like me, for better or for worse. They have their whole lives ahead of them. I want to make sure that I provide them with love and opportunities, and that my hopes for them are for their happiness and well-being in their chosen paths in life.
They are still taking baby steps, but what is so hard is realizing that their baby steps are already taking them on their paths which will eventually lead them into their own lives. I know the healthiest attitude is to spend as much time as I can with them, and to enjoy and appreciate it. I also need to realize that I have many more years with my kids at home. But I can write this with confidence, if I struggle this much with kindergarten, I am not looking forward to the day when I send them off to college!
