The Art of Letting Them Grow Up

My children are growing up. Obviously. I don't notice it on a day-to-day basis though unless I'm in the midst of a particular milestone. Mya has had two milestones recently - she graduated from preschool last week and this week she learned how to pump her legs on the swing. These are little things but stacked on each other they have me reflecting on my babies that are no longer babies.

I cried at these events. (Again, obviously - you know me by now don't you?) The tears were a mixture of pride and sadness. There is no greater pride then watching your child succeed or accomplish something, yet for me that feeling is immediately followed by the sadness in knowing you're needed less.

It's not unusual for me to comment to the kids about how big they've grown. "How'd you get to be so big? You used to be my tiny baby!" Or to ask them to stop growing - I do that quite frequently, too. And yet I find myself pushing them to grow just as often as I'm asking them to stop. Mason will turn eight when the leaves start to change and still hasn't figured out pumping, or learned how to tie his shoes, and absolutely will not try riding his bike without training wheels. His response to these things is usually, you'll push me, or I'll just wear Velcro forever, or I just want to be safe and not get hurt. All plausible excuses, but I still want him to learn these things.

This past weekend I woke up to the sound of pages flipping. Mason was sitting in the hall outside my room, reading a book. This is a big step - he normally only picks up a book during our designated reading times at night. I was so proud he was reading on his own, yet so sad my days of curling up and reading him with are numbered. You know what I thought of when I realized what he was doing? This picture of him from when he was a baby. My little guy with his wispy hair and his chubby little fingers holding a board book.

I guess you could said it's an acquired art - knowing how and when to let your children grow. I know I'm still figuring out when to hold on and when to let them grow (Mya) or push them to grow (Mason). Even though it means more tears of pride and sadness, I'm already wondering what the next milestone will be.