I’m fun (most of the time). I’m organized (sometimes to a fault). And I’m mellow (which sometimes leads to lazy mornings that never end).
But I am not good at change.
My babies have grown by leaps and bounds and I’ve made it my goal to enjoy every step of the way (even the sleepless nights and meltdowns galore). I’ve tried to stop time by way of photography. I’ve tried to slow time by way of under-scheduling.
And yet, they’ve grown.
Tears of sadness
My oldest is only in first grade, so perhaps I just haven’t been at it long enough, but I have yet to feel the desire to do a back-to-school dance. I see the videos that others find funny and my heart breaks just a little bit, because I miss mine.
I love when they learn and grow and make new friends. I love listening to their stories when they come home at the end of the school day. I love doing homework together and playing the afternoon away. I love every single second of it.
But I miss them when they’re gone.
I have my work. I have my goals. I have my me-time to rejuvenate. And still, I don’t feel very me without their little voices nearby.
Tears of joy
I must admit, I’m the one who cries during commercials for things like diapers or coffee (have you seen that one with the kid going off to college?). So it should comes as no surprise that I cry my way through most parenting milestones, big and small.
The joy I feel for my kids when they complete a difficult task or smile their way through their soccer games is immeasurable. The happiness that warms my heart each time they take on a new challenge with confidence knows no end.
I cry when preschool begins and when it comes to a close. I cry at Kindergarten holiday performances and successful Irish dance classes. I cry when they separate and I cry when they come back to my arms (ok, but maybe not in front of them).
I cry because happiness is all I ever wanted for them and, even on the hard days, they always manage to find it.
Tears of pride
I don’t know what the future holds for my two little loves. Only time will tell. To hear my daughter tell it, she has a bright future in fashion design. To hear my son, racecar driving is the only goal.
Dreams will change. Ideas will shift. Friends will come and go. But one thing will remain constant as I adjust to the constant transitions: Pride. I will always feel proud of these kind and thoughtful kids of mine.
No matter the trigger, no matter the transition at hand…some of those tears will always be simply tears of pride.
How do you cope with letting go?
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