Bittersweet

Days like today make me feel so happy and kind of sad at the same time.  I have spent time today working on potty training with Emory (21 months) and reading with Oliver (5 years).  I am so proud of the new things my boys are learning to do, but I know that this also means that they are pulling away just a little more each day.

Before I had kids I didn't know what a bittersweet journey motherhood would be.  I imagined all of the stages they would go through, but didn't know the extent to which my own feelings, hopes and dreams would become entwined with theirs.  I didn't know how much they would delight and aggravate me at the same time.  I didn't know that I would be in danger of losing myself at times.  I didn't know that watching them grow up would be one of the happiest and hardest things I would ever experience.

Kids want to grow up and their parents, of course, want what's best for them.  We want them to become competent, independent people who contribute to society.  What I have come to realize about myself is that I am not really sad that they are growing up, I am sad that I am being left behind.  I love my role as a "mommy".  I love being the first person Emory wants to see when he wakes up and the last one he sees before he falls asleep.  I love being the one who makes every little scrape and bruise better and the excuse to act silly in public.  I know that my relationship with my kids will continue to evolve and grow in different ways, but my time to play superhero won't last forever.  I guess this is all the more reason to make the most of all those little moments along the way.