Letting go, one milestone at a time

 

Motherhood is mania personified.  Truly.  One second I’m pulling my hair out, desperately wondering when getting W dressed will no longer require chasing and tackling.  The next second, silent tears of pride stain my cheeks as he proudly pulls his own undies up and down to go potty.

And this week’s mania?

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W started his first art class where (soon) he’ll be in the class all.by.him.self. [GASP]  It was terrifyingly adorable.  Miniature chairs, tiny smocks and paint splattered masterpieces mixed with a little bit of sharing and learning his colors.

I faded into the background knowing that the goal was to soon leave him there alone.  I was just a silent (and proud) observer of his little personality filling the room and coming through loud and clear…a whole lot of spark and persistence, a little bit of antsy curiosity and a lot of kindness for his new buddies.

It’s exhausting.

And not always in a bad way.  But exhausting in a cathartic sense.  The other side of extreme joy and pride is seriously just as tiring as the other side of panic.  And I know a little bit about panic.  Like the mild panic I feel as I think about actually leaving him alone at his art class in the coming weeks…

But the day will come.  It will happen.  Eventually.  And whether I’m ready or not, there will always be another milestone fading away in the rearview mirror…another one appearing on the horizon.  A never ending lesson in letting go.

But real talk, this road toward a more independent child is a nail-biter of a ride for those of us in the driver’s seat.  It’s bumpy and paved with chaos, but it’s a scenic drive splashed with tiny moments of triumph, exhaustion, lots of joy and a few spilled bottles of paint.  Oops.

But the passenger seat?  Well, that’s a different story.  Let’s just say that my little co-pilot seems to be thoroughly enjoying every second of this hectic ride and happens to love speed bumps.  The more the better.  The bigger the better.

No wonder I’m starting to go gray…

Manically yours,

MomME

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Go BC!

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This weekend W and I hit the road with my parents to cheer on my alma mater, Boston College, as the football team kicked off the season.  I’ve gotta be honest, though.  There was something totally strange about pushing a stroller around the same places we used to drunkenly stumble at 5am exclaiming, “People are sugaring their Corn Flakes right now!”

True story.  That was actually said.

But seriously.  This past weekend I was that old person who brought their kid to campus.  That old person in the dining hall.  That old person in the Mods.  And then, of course, there were those moments when I felt totally out of place amidst a sea of cut-off jean shorts and crop tops (BC’s new student uniform, apparently).  Had me feeling like my distressed denim was all sorts of mom jean.  Lame.

That lady. Pushing the stroller.

But once I got over all that.  I’ve gotta say.  There was something absolutely priceless about having my little guy running through the quad, cheering Go BC!, dancing to the band while proudly wearing his new Eagles shirt as those same questionably clad co-eds smiled and cooed, “Awwwww” as he zoomed by them.

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I think they call it pride.  Yeah, that’s it.

I was proud.

Proud to be there with him and talk about where Mommy went to school.  Proud to be back on a campus that helped shape me in so many ways.  A campus where I met life-long friends.  I was proud to be an alum of BC.  And proud thinking that, one day, this precious little guy would be wearing his own Super Fan shirt.  (Thankfully I have 15 years to prepare for that milestone.  I’m still anxious about dropping him off…alone…at art class next week.)

And with that pride welling in my chest, I wanted to get a picture with the little guy in front of the Boston College sign at the entrance to campus.  Well.  Want to make a toddler laugh scream?  Tell them your plans.  And then take the photo below.

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I was still proud.  A little sweaty from the 80 degree day and the anxiety that is holding a tantruming toddler.  But proud.  Here’s to more tailgating in our future…

Proudly yours,

MomME