The First Step In Letting Go

I know that in raising our children, the final goal is for them to be kind, contributing, functioning members of society. 

Our goal is for them to fly high above the nest, leaving us behind. 

We want them to soar higher than we ever could. 

We want them to travel further, leaving our nest empty with only the memories of childhood behind. 

But I’m not ready yet. 

I can’t help but feel like these 5 years have gone by far too quickly and I cannot seem to wrap my head around this first step of letting you go. 

Of watching you board the big yellow bus with a massive backpack on your small frame. 

Of having you be gone all day, with no way to know if you are okay. 

Are you making friends? 

Will you get lost?

Do you like your teacher? 

Does she know that sometimes you really need a hug to ease your anxiety? 

Can they understand you even though you swap your “R’s” for “W’s”? 

Do they see the worry in your eyes if a friend is upset? 

Do they see how you fidget with your hands when you are anxious? 

Do they know just how much you want to please everyone around you? How being a perfectionist makes you so anxious to fail, that sometimes you want to quit before trying? 

Are you ready to test your wings as you become a little less mine and a little more a citizen of the world?

The questions swirl in my head, as I ease your anxiety I am overcome with my own. Are you truly ready? Did we prepare you for everything you will face now that we aren’t there to shield you from the harshness of the world around you? 

I know Kindergarten is just one step. One very small step. 

I know that we will have more first days of school. More milestones. A lifetime of memories to savor. 

But this one feels big. 

I watch you as your eyes flutter to sleep and you rest your head on my chest. I know you need that closeness to sleep. I know that you need my voice, singing your favorite lullaby, to drift off. I know that you need snuggles during the day to help you regulate. 

I am your safe space. 

I am grateful these last 5 years were spent mostly home with you. Am I ready to hand those precious hours, minutes…seconds over? Are you ready for those precious years to be behind us? Are we ready to only catch glimpses of our times together on school breaks and weekends? 

When I put my own feelings aside, I know you are ready. You are ready to take the first step in the journey of finding your place in the world. 

You are a little less mine. 

As you soar high above to reach your dreams, never forget your nest is waiting. We are watching, praying, hoping and cheering you on. 

You soar high my sweet girl, just remember we are always here to catch you.

The Shower of Motherhood

As I stood in my cluttered shower listening to the chaos that ensued right outside the bathroom door, I was struck by just how much had changed in a few short years. The intermixing of giggles and bickering made me smile in an odd, contented way. Wow how different life was now! As I looked around I couldn’t help but realize how even my bathroom had undergone dramatic changes with my journey through motherhood. Instead of shower shelves packed with specialty boutique skin and hair care products I now saw baby soap and strawberry scented children’s shampoo in Costco sized bottles. Not to mention an array of empty bottles mixed with mystery concoctions courtesy of my four year old daughter. While my bargain brand shampoo and conditioner stared at me I realized that my sole remaining personal product was a small bottle of face wash tucked in the back of a high shelf out of reach from little hands. Somehow, in my sleep deprived state, I could relate to that small bottle. Clinging on despite the ever changing world around it; as if it was reflecting my own sense of self holding on despite the changes motherhood had brought.

Covering the walls of the shower were suction bath toys and a mesh bag filled with even more bath toys. At the bottom of the shower a giant pink pig watering can. Why? I couldn’t tell you! Constant physical, visible, unmistakable reminders that this life with my three Os-lings was so much different than it used to be. More chaotic, messy, cluttered and interesting but yet filled with new purpose and a reason for being. This new baggage I carry is my heaviest weight but more importantly, my biggest blessing.

As I step out of the shower I realize that instead of reaching for a perfectly white fluffy towel I was wrapped in a princess towel like a new skin screaming “mom” almost as loudly as the ever present food and boogers on my clothes. My counter top cluttered with character toothbrushes and toothpaste. Replacing my old makeup chest and vanity is now a simple makeup bag tucked to the side filled with just the essentials. The best parts remained, the excess trimmed away and replaced with something so much greater, much like myself.

Under the sticky fingerprints on the walls is new paint and under the dribbles of toothpaste is a new sink. So much has been lost changed. I am not the same person I was before kids. My body is stretched and scarred. My mind is groggy and my body aches but at the end of each day my heart is full. I wouldn’t change our cluttered messy life for my old one. Instead, motherhood has made me the best version of myself. Highlighting the parts I want to keep, the person I want to be and stripping away the extra. The drama, the high maintenance friends, all selfishness and pettiness. I’m still me. I’m a better, more frazzled and loving version of me; I’m the person I was always meant to be.

Just like my sole remaining bottle of face wash this stage won’t last forever. Eventually the face wash will run out just like the time I have with my three young Os-lings. We will slowly watch the marks of children fade from our daily lives and showers. I’m not really sure if we will even notice they have vanished until one day down the road when we find ourselves missing the fun fruity scents of kid soap and bright colored bath toys littering our showers. The daily chaos may fade, but the marks on our hearts are there forever. These days are messy, exhausting and cluttered but they are fleeting, fulfilling and the best of our lives.