By Kris
Ben graduated from nursery school last week. I thought I'd be the hormonal, pregnant woman, bawling from behind my camcorder. But he had this huge smile through the whole ceremony and, for the first time, he kind of sang along with his class. So instead of crying, I smiled too.
The tears came later, as I packed up John's closet in what will be the new baby's nursery. In the end, I had four trash bags full of size 2 boys' clothes for my friend, and the overwhelming urge to instead keep them stashed in my basement forever and ever.
With a baby on the way, we've moved our two boys along toward "big boyhood" as best we can. John finally potty trained, and both he and Ben can now sleep through the night wearing underwear. We moved John into a booster car seat with a shoulder-strap seat belt. I packed away the bibs, the plastic dinnerware and the sippy cups, so now the boys use regular plates and glasses.
All these changes happened in the last month, and I guess I'm overwhelmed. I realized soon after Ben's birth that, as a parent, I wouldn't have to let my kids go only on their first days of school or at their high school graduations.
Parenting is a continual process of letting go.
With small children, in particular, life is a series of fleeting moments, where every turn of phrase or cute habit is just a passing stage that ends as abruptly as it began.
Each outgrown outfit that I toss into a trash bag forces me to face this reality. My boys will never again wear that turtleneck with the wrenches and hammers on it. And they will never be the 28-pounders who I could scoop up into my arms and lift above my head, blowing raspberries on their bellies.
This fall, Ben goes to kindergarten and John starts nursery school. Even as I celebrate these new stages, I can't help mourning what we leave behind. I can't help attaching meaning to soft, green corduroy overalls and goofy striped Gap pajamas.
I can't help wanting to hold on to these things forever, as if by doing so, I can somehow hold on to my babies forever, too.
Ok,so maybe I saved some of Lillianna's first Christmas dresses,newborn socks,a onesie t-shirt,newborn diaper and so on but I don't think that's so bad.I can't give every last cutie pie baby girl thing away,now can I?
Before we moved a few years ago I gave her newborn-4T clothes away to a 19 year old girl who was pregnant. I was happy that she would have 4 years worth of clothes for her daughter but it broke my heart to realize I wasn't having any more children.
Just for the record,I cried my eyes out at Lillianna's kindergarten graduation 2 years ago. When the class started singing,"Lean on me," I practically had to be carried out of the auditorium. I am shocked that you didn't cry. You are a brave,brave woman!!
Posted by: RobinP | June 19, 2005 at 01:50 PM
When my oldest went to kindergarten he was so excited that he ran to the line of kids outside the school doors and happily marched in without even a glance over his shoulder. I stood there shocked, since I had prepared myself for a tough time and was ready with all the encouraging things I was going to tell him to get him to go to school. As I watched him fade into the crowd as he entered the school I stood frozen in my spot, shocked. I turned to walk home and after a few steps, I burst out in tears. I looked up to see another tear streaked mother, and then a very happy bouncy mom breezing by seeing us remarked "Must be your first ones."
It gets easier, to know that allowing them to grow doesn't mean losing them. I have realized that they still need me, just in different ways. Sometimes I think my think my 12 year old needs me more than ever. Puberty isn't easy.
Posted by: clickmom | June 16, 2005 at 09:13 AM
When my oldest went to kindergarten he was so excited that he ran to the line of kids outside the school doors and happily marched in without even a glance over his shoulder. I stood there shocked, since I had prepared myself for a tough time and was ready with all the encouraging things I was going to tell him to get him to go to school. As I watched him fade into the crowd as he entered the school I stood frozen in my spot, shocked. I turned to walk home and after a few steps, I burst out in tears. I looked up to see another tear streaked mother, and then a very happy bouncy mom breezing by seeing us remarked "Must be your first ones."
It gets easier, to know that allowing them to grow doesn't mean losing them. I have realized that they still need me, just in different ways. Sometimes I think my think my 12 year old needs me more than ever. Puberty isn't easy.
Posted by: clickmom | June 16, 2005 at 09:13 AM