It has been magical.
Waking up to the sound of a little person chatting.
Starting my mornings with a little person crawling in to bed with me, smiling at me, kissing me.
Carrying a child on my hips, making little ponytails, spoon feeding.
It’s been wonderful to watch the world through tiny eyes.
Eye opening to simply be and sing, laugh or dance on random occasions.
Eskimo kisses, random hugging, silly phrases, chasing and tickling.
It has been freeing to lie on the floor playing with toys; to walk down the streets filled with our fantasies.
Kissing dolls goodnight, searching the house for favorite stuffed animals, driving around singing silly songs.
It’s been heartwarming to be the funniest and smartest person alive, at least in your eyes.
The safest place is no longer exclusively with me.
You are going to school now.
You will spend a big part of the day in someone else’s care.
The world is no longer viewed from within my arm’s length.
Catch length, hug length, hold length.
I hold your hand as I take you to school on your first day.
You’re nervous, and you’re gripping my hand tight.
“Mommy, I’m shy.”
“Don’t worry, the teacher knows you are shy, and she will take good care of you.”
In the class room you spot your favorite activity. Your eyes sparkle with anticipation.
You join two other girls and they immediately start a conversation with you.
Our parting is hasty. You don’t have time for me.
There are colorful shiny papers that demand to be cut and pasted.
Hesitatingly I leave the room.
There are no tears, except maybe in my eyes.
There is no dramatic goodbye, as it should be on a big day like this.
As should be fitting, when you enter into a new era.
Outside I pause in front of the window with your father, hoping to catch your eye so I can wave.
Nothing. You are busy, all consumed with your new environment.
The teacher notices us and taps you on the back. We have to settle with a quick wave from you.
And that’s it.
Just like that my child is all grown.
My day is spent in confusion. I am absent, forgetful, and my eyes are teary.
I have the constant feeling that I’m forgetting something, someone.
At the end of the morning I’m relieved to go and pick you up.
I immediately know that you had a great time. It shows.
As we leave the schoolyard, I watch my oldest while he walks in front of me. He’s all long arms and legs and he is Mr. Cool himself. He is having a vivid conversation with his sister. When did they get so big?
I’m holding your hand. You’re by my side. Close to me. Suddenly you start to pull my hand, you want me to let go. Reluctantly I loose my grip and you run away from me, eager to follow your siblings.
The years I leave behind are truly wonderful.
And I know there is so much more to come.
But I hesitate, I try to hold on to this as long as I can.
Now that I still see traces of that toddler in you.
Now that I can still feel what it was like.
When you were completely mine.
This is an original, first post to World Moms Blog from our new writer in the Netherlands, Mirjam.
The photo used in this post is credited to the author.
Mirjam
Mirjam was born in warm, sunny Surinam, but raised in the cold, rainy Netherlands. She´s the mom of three rambunctious beauties and has been married for over two decades to the love of her life. Every day she´s challenged by combining the best and worst of two cultures at home. She used to be an elementary school teacher but is now a stay at home Mom. In her free time she loves to pick up her photo camera. Mirjam has had a life long battle with depression and is not afraid to talk about it. She enjoys being a blogger, an amateur photographer, and loves being creative in many ways. But most of all she loves live and laughter, even though sometimes she is the joke herself. You can find Mirjam (sporadically) at her blog Apples and Roses where she blogs about her battle with depression and finding beauty in the simplest of things. You can also find Mirjam on Twitter and Instagram.
Follow Me:
Motherhood is truly bittersweet. We raise them to be independent – of us. And therein lies the push and pull. But, we are always their safe place, no matter if they’re 5, 15, or 25.
Lovely to see you at WMB, Mirjam.
It is bittersweet. It took me by surprise that while I was excitingly preparing her for school, all these other feelings were right under the surface.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Alison.
Mirjam,
Welcome to World Moms Blog!
I am going to go through this all over again in the fall when my oldest is in full-day 1st grade in the US. Sometimes it’s harder for us to let go than for them. This is a lovely post, and welcome to the team!
Jen 🙂
Thank you Jennifer!
I don’t think it ever gets easier, no matter how big they get.
1st grade, wow! Then you will soon go through that phase where your kids laugh at you for having a hard time letting go. I see eye rolls in your future!
ha ha, Mirjam!
OMG, this is so beautifully written and so true! I loved you post, and my oldest girl is also going to school in September, and I am both excited an danxious about it… I think motherhood is all about anxious and exciting. Besides, lovely to see more European writers here! And since you also live in the Netherlands, maybe we’ll manage to meet in person!
Isn’t it weird how you can be exited and anxious at the same time?
It is wonderful though, to see how her world gets bigger and how smart she has become almost over night.
I would love to meet you some day Olga! That would be nice.
Mirjam that was really beautifully written … and I remember feeling exactly the same way all those years ago! The separations are always harder on us than they are on them!
My son is already 20 years old and my “baby” is 17, so I’m rapidly heading for the “empty nest”. Yet, as you so beautifully put, “The years I leave behind are truly wonderful. And I know there is so much more to come.
But I hesitate, I try to hold on to this as long as I can.”
I can honestly tell you, that sentiment remains the same whether it’s your child’s first day of school or his first solo International flight to visit his girlfriend!! 🙂
First international solo flight?! Okay, wow. There is No way to be ready for that..
I do believe the sentiment stays the same. They will never be just a grown up, or just a teenager to us. To us they are also, that baby, that toddler and that kid with the missing tooth.
The letting go … are we ever ready, mine are 11 and 15 … not even close to ready 😉
Isn’t it funny, how every time we take a big step in letting go we applaud ourselves, only to find out later on that we have to go through the same thing again. And again.
Thank you for commenting.
The absentminded smile and wave, the hasty kiss… Yes, they are always more prepared then we are, aren’t they…
Beautifully written.
Welcome neighbour (I’m from Belgium).
Thank you, Tinne!
It’s obviously the Moms that need to be prepared, not the kids.
They are such bittersweet times aren’t they? I have an 11 year-old with feet bigger than mine who, I swear, only yesterday was the smallest baby I had ever seen.
I know what you mean, my oldest is almost the same age and I can’t figure out how he grew up that fast.
Thank you for reading and commenting, Karyn.
Beautiful post, Mirjam! Such bittersweet as I think of my own boy getting ready to start Elementary school. Oh be still my heart. Welcome to WMB 🙂
Thank you, Maureen!
I think those moments are the best and the worst.
On one hand you are so proud of your baby growing up, and on the other hand you don’t want your ‘baby’ to outgrow you too fast.
I think that letting go is the hardest part as a parent. I read a quote from another blog that basically said that we raise them so they can leave and be on their own.
Sniff.
I love that you are over here and your gorgeous words xoxo
Mirjam,
I’m so excited to see you here. Thank you for this post. I will be living this moment in another three months as my oldest goes off to kindergarten. I am already getting teary about this transition.
Beautifully written Mirjam! I cried while reading is because my son will be starting the first grade and my darter will start nursery in Sept… Bitter sweet moments of parenthood!
Welcome to WMB!
You brought me back to the first day of pre-school….and then the first day of Kindergarten. I fought those tears back all day too.
Beautiful post Mirjam – welcome to WMB!