I'm spending the day–and much of next week–sending my peeps off to various camps and cousin visits and waving Oldest Child back to college after time at home. And I will tell you what: it stuns me every time that my little pitter-patter-y people are old enough to be leaving me. To spend most of the rest of their time in my protection leaving me.
People say, "Where did time go? How did they grow up so fast?" Blah blah. I always thought that was honey-roasted sentimentality for old people and I wasn't ever going to say anything like that. But . . .
WHERE DID THE TIME GO? HOW DID THEY GROW UP SO FAST?
I will have three drivers next year. THREE. And the latest one is a kid I thought would never get behind the wheel because she tends to be timid and anxious about things. But in the past year this same child has run off and done things that I would never have done, and gotten all independent and is going to run some rivers next week, and is away this week and didn't even look back when I put her on the bus this morning. LIKE, NOT AT ALL.
I guess this is a good sign, right? It means she's confident and stuff. Her sister did the same thing last night when I took her back to her apartment (No car. Doesn't need one. Walks to her job. Character building. All that stuff). I mean she said "Bye Mom." But then her eyes were riveted right back to the cute boy who was blocking her view of me, which meant that baby, I was SO out of her mind at that point. Like, I'm surprised she even remembered that I was there long enough to say goodbye.
The next kid-o-mine has had me out of his neediness crosshairs for ages now. Forgets half the time to come say good night to me when he comes in at night. Unless he hasn't gone anywhere. Then he looks at me like, "Well? Were you going to tuck me in, or what?" Without that I wouldn't know he needed me for anything much except to poke him in the ribs and make him laugh once in a while.
THESE PEOPLE ARE WAYYY TOO INDEPENDENT, I TELL YOU!
Which of course is what I want right? Well, at least I still have my littlest dude.
Who is going through some learning processes (some of which I mentioned in my post about getting him into private school, here), that will require my time. My presence. My energy. This is good. Except . . .
This hilarious kid takes the same amount of energy to raise that all three of the others did, put together. He's a firecracker. A cracker jack. OH MY GOSH! WILL I EVER HAVE TIME TO DO THE THINGS I WANT TO DO? I GAVE UP MY LIFE. WHEN IS IT GOING TO BE ALL ABOUT MEEEEEEEEE?
Er. Yeah. We get like this, moms. It's kind of a split-personality thing. A dichotomy. It's sort of like: "I love you, my child. I sacrifice. I give to you. You help me. I learn from you. It is a wonderful bonding experience. Now get out."
WAAAAIIIITTTT!!! COOOMMMMME BAAAAAACCKKK!