I always found it funny when people referred to their children as “babies” long after the word ‘baby’ applied. Until I had children.
In the weeks leading up to my youngest starting school, I was wrapped with emotion – reminiscing about the past five years and the milestone that we are embarking on. I asked myself the typical maternal questions…”Is he ready?” “Have I done enough to prepare him?” “How is this going to change him? Change us?”
But, something else surfaced that I hadn’t considered.
He had grown in to a boy right before my eyes and I was so busy being his mother that I hadn’t fully acknowledged it. He was no longer a baby in any definition of the word. I hadn’t remembered this happening; it just had. In the last few weeks, I have watched him ready himself for the change. Packing a book bag bigger than his little body; going over where he would be each day, who he would be with, and what he would be doing now that he wasn’t in “pre” school. He no longer asks to be carried. And, he rarely backs up on to my lap for a rest anymore.
It was then that I realized that it was me who wasn’t ready for this change. He was moving ahead and I was stalling.
The first day of school couldn’t have gone better. He transitioned without so much as a tear. I had to play catch up. But, he will always be my baby no matter what anyone else says. Ever.