"And other questions that I'm clearly not old enough to be asked"
or even better, "How do I know? I'm just as lost!"
My first born child will turn ten this summer, and even three months out, I'm having difficulty keeping my composure when I think about it. How is it possible that he has already existed for TEN years? How can it be that I've had the honor of the title Mom for almost a decade? I could wax on about the oddities of time- how it seems to crawl through the colicky days and nights of infancy and then suddenly knock you sideways with its lightning quick speed through the first half of childhood. That's certainly not new grounds for us Mommy-blogger types. But the reality is that I've got an almost-double-digit-aged child, who has his own life that revolves around school, homework, making loud noises on the baritone horn, and playing baseball. I'm learning to become more comfortable in my role as observer, but it's sometimes hard to reconcile this reality with the vivid memories I have from a decade ago, from when I proudly waddled along in late pregnancy, huge stomach leading the way along with my new found attitude of impending motherhood and a host of confusion that I tried really hard to mask. I remember attending my husband's college graduation in my seventh month, suddenly feeling so adult-like. There I sat- a wife, a soon to be mommy, a full-fledged grown-up at twenty-four.
Ten years later here I sit. A mommy three times over. One half of a twelve year marriage. And I'm just as bewildered as ever.
I spend the majority of each day with my younger two children, who as preschoolers certainly have minds of their own, but whose barrage of daily questions I am prepared for:
"Why?" (that one's a given)
"I can't reach it, can you help me?"
"Mommy, can you help me wipe my butt?"
These are the questions that I'm used to, the questions that may drive me batty at times (especially that last one), but ones that I've come to expect, ones that don't surprise my ears. The other questions and issues and daily experiences from my 'tween' son don't always fit this bill. It's challenging to straddle these two very different parenting stages, and I want to make sure that I'm giving my oldest what he needs, but I find myself often confused about what that might be. Yes, he needs help finding his jock strap (because obviously, that thing could end up anywhere, right?), but what else? I'm there to be homework helper, and laundry washer, and also the person who initiates the conversations I believe he needs to be a regular part of (it's at least always interesting to talk about sex with your nine year old son). I can cheer him on from the bleachers at baseball games, when I'm not chasing his brother and sister from trouble on the nearby playground. And when the season of constant evening baseball practices and games comes to an end, I'll be happy to return to our shared reading sessions at night where we still snuggle together with a book like we have for years.
With my younger two children, my confidence is higher that I'll be prepared for what comes next in their development and experiences, as well as what my part will be in relation to that. But with the oldest child, it's as if we're walking together down this unknown path, not sure of what is around each new bend. Sometimes we're hand in hand, other times we're woefully apart, but we're always at the same mile marker, no solid predictive visions of what's to come in either of our heads. Some simple guides might be available for the general area, but everyone knows that I'm not too good at reading maps.
But I am good at finding jock straps. And catching my breath as we turn each corner.
This is an original DC Metro Moms post.
Dawn blogs nonsense about her family at my thoughts exactly, and tries to sound intelligent when she reviews books at 5 Minutes for Books.
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