Torn.

I'm so proud. My little sweetheart is all ready for her first day of preschool. Her clothes are laid out, ready. Her tote bag is beside the door, waiting. She's going to meet new friends, encounter new adventures, learn lots of new things... She's going to be one of many little sweethearts, gaining independence, taking this big step... I'm so excited for her, but I have to admit...

...I'm a little sad for me.

I find myself torn at times between the enjoyment I find in watching her grow and the pain of realizing how quickly this is happening. I'm ready to give her the freedom to experience life separate from me, but fighting the urge to just yank her back into my arms.

I know that she's going to be perfectly fine tomorrow morning. She may be cautious as she enters that classroom for the first time alone, but she will quickly find her place in this new little world waiting for her. I am sure of this, but...

...I'm not so sure about me.

There will be many smiles, and probably even laughter, as we watch our big girl become a preschooler right before our eyes, but there will likely be tears as I drive away... not because I'm not happy, not because I don't want this for her or think this is right for her, because I do and it is, but because three years have flown by.


Every once in a while, I get this uncomfortable feeling that sort of starts in my toes and travels all the way up, until it's sitting right in my throat. This usually happens when I'm looking at my daughter, marveling at the fact that this big girl really is mine, trying to remember how she felt in my arms on those first sleepless nights, or the sound of her first laugh, or the way she used to say "momma" when it was one of the only words she knew... These days, I get called "mother" every now and then, and I'm not sure that I can remember these details that made me love being a "mother" in the first place.

Even though I'll always adore the memories of where we once were, I'm completely in love with where we are now...


I adore the way she insists on wearing dresses and tutus because shorts and shirts are "not beautiful enough". I love the conversations we have about anything and everything, the way she randomly tells me she loves me, the spontaneous hugs and kisses... I love watching her entertain her brother with silly faces and noises, the way she begs me for music so she can dance wildly in our living room, the way she looks when she's sleeping and has no clue I'm there, marveling at the fact that she really is mine.

At times I may feel torn between hating how time refuses to slow down and loving the new places it takes us, but I'm always thankful for every single minute and constantly reminding myself to live in these little moments and hold onto them with all that I have.

Comments

  1. JadeAugust 23, 2011 at 9:47 PM

    Christina, you made me cry! Big time! It didn't help that this is Caleb's birthday week. LOL Chris just said, "that's why you just keep having babies!" Seriously though, that feeling that goes from the toes to the throat. Oh my, yes I know that feeling. It's like you want to freeze the moment. When Caleb was a newborn in the hospital, I remember thinking that I would long for the very moment I was in right then. Telling myself to savor it, because it was so very sacred. I am excited for what's to come but don't even want to think about letting go.

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  2. Platinum RoseAugust 24, 2011 at 9:58 AM

    Me too, you made me cry too! Ugh this just touches on what weighs on my heart and mind daily. It's such a thrill, so much joy and fun, watching them grow up and evolve into amazing people. But at the same time, it makes me very, very sad. I have to keep that feeling at bay so many times on a daily basis, to keep it together and not bawl while at work, haha.

    I really understand that phrase my Mom has always said to me, to this very day, to which I'd always respond "yea, yea, blah blah blah", but gosh it holds such a sharp meaning to me now. "No matter what, you'll ALWAYS be my baby."

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