Tuesday~September 15, 2009
I’ll never forget taking Miles to his first big event when he was about two weeks old. I was a mess of hormones, a lactating machine filled with angst, joy, and fear all at once. In short, I was a complete mess and somehow, I was absolutely loving it.
Those first days, they all ran together and felt as if they’d last forever. Such a strange thing, being so tired that you just want your baby to hurry up and grow, and yet wanting them to be newly born and in your arms your entire life. And then you want a break so badly, you come close to asking the mailman to babysit so you can run around the block. And then you want to wake that sweet little monster up after he finally falls asleep because you suddenly miss him…yes, it’s crazy-making, alright.
My mom was holding him on the day of that first big outing, which was obviously a safe way to give my arms a break. We stood and talked and then she walked away to show little teeny Miles off to someone who had never met him. Confirming my craziness, I nearly screamed for her to stop. My arms suddenly felt very long and empty, and my insides felt as if they were being pulled along the lawn with my baby boy. Since his very beginning, it was the farthest he had ever gone from me, and I didn’t like it one bit. (Even though it was only about 200 feet.)
It felt like that again last year when I dropped Miles off at preschool for the first time. Asher and I were pretty lonely on the car ride home. It was so terribly quiet, and I realized it would only get harder in years to come.
To cope with her job of letting go, a mother learns to fill her arms with pride in her child’s new accomplishments, and happiness over new freedoms. She turns up the volume of life so the quiet isn’t quite so deafening.
And still, I’m pretty sure that pull will always be there, forever.
It wasn’t nearly as painful this year, dropping him off at school and then leaving him.
After all, he was very excited…
So I was happy for him.
(Yes, he dressed himself, and I thought he looked smashing.)
He was ready to clown around with pals…
And I’m proud of him because I know he makes a very good friend.
He wanted to make perfectly clear that he’d be fine, you know, since he’s Spiderman…
He’s growing up, and practicing his teenager face…”C’mon Mom, let’s just go!”
Heaven help me.
He had a great time, wearing himself out to the extent that he asked this very good question when he got in the car after school,
“Are we still having the same day we were having when I went to school?”
“Yes, we are Sweetie, it’s been a long day hasn’t it?”
I wish it could last forever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was so moved by the comments, tweets, and facebook messages after my last post. I have to say thank you. You people were handing me cups of grace all over the place. I’m just plain humbled and so honored to know you. So thank you. Really. Thank you.
{ 44 comments }
Miles is so cute and sweet!
Weston sure misses Miles! When we had pizza and movie night last friday, he asked if we were going to Miles' house to watch the movie. Weston has been sick since friday with a fever and a headache. We saw the docotor yesterday. Hopefully he'll be better soon and we'll play. We miss you. I miss you.
Hello dear brain twin! It appears we've written along similar lines again. So when I say I TOTALLY get this, you know it's true…
That delightful grin would definitely help ease the pain of letting him to go to school. What a doll!
How can you be anything but thrilled for that face?
Your last post actually changed my whole view on some crap I am dealing with. I even quoted you to my daughter. (I gave you credit of course. :) )
Speaking of empty arms and starting school. I will never ever forget the feeling of my children sitting on my lap. It's so sad when they can't or won't anymore.
I still make the 8 year old sit there with me; and he loves it as much as I do.
I love that you let him choose his clothes…there were and are some days when I want to hang a sign around my children's necks which says "I dress myself!'
☺
"Such a strange thing, being so tired that you just want your baby to hurry up and grow, and yet wanting them to be newly born and in your arms your entire life." YES!!
But good grief, you and Mylestones have gotten me to be a big sobbing mess tonight! :)
He is so cute! Ro has been 4 going on 14 lately too, I get a lot of "stop talking to me", or "stop looking at me." TROUBLE!
Dang. That grin on his face is beyond contagious. He looks like the sort of kid -I- would want to be friends with.
And what a cute Spiderman he is!
He's so cute! I feel like that all the time…are we still having the same day?? Ha!
Such a sweet kid! and that face. how do you say no?
You have accurately echoed my feelings yet again! Today was Nathaniel's first day of preschool and while he went to a program for 2-year-olds last year, this year he seemed so confident and sure that it reminded me what a big boy he's becoming! You have an amazing way of capturing your thoughts (and MINE, apparently!) :)
Oh Heather, I love this so much. So many of the same thoughts I have had as my sweet one goes to Kindergarten this year. Amelia has asked me if it is the same day when he comes home…that whole 2.5 hours flies by for me but drags for her.
Love this. He is such a sweet boy!
He's so cute it kills me. What a doll!
I love that happy face in the rear view mirror. It's just one more step in the series of sacrifices called motherhood . . . letting them have experiences that they need and long for even though it's not easy for us. (Of course for you, that means dropping them off at school. For me, it's inviting someone over for a playdate.)
you describe a mama's heart of 'letting go' (as if there really is such a thing) so beautifully…
Just the cutest…Miss Peach says the same thing. The days seem long, and they go by so fast…
I emailed you…
Our kids are the same age! I dropped my girl off at preschool this week, too. And, I made the same drive home. :+(
Oh my goodness, are you and Jo (from Mylestones) working together to turn me into a big blubbering ball of mommy crisis? Because if so, it's working.
You said it so well, that strange longing and empty feeling when they're out of reach. It's like when they were born, they took a part of me with them and I'll always keenly feel the need to be reunited.
I love the teenager face…hilarious! And I love that you let him dress himself. That, my friend, takes guts. Although I have to say, he DOES look smashing!
I know… I dropped Jay off at his first day of preschool yesterday and wow was I swallowing back tears. Me and Noe left the building – just the two of us and it felt so strange!
This is such a crazy ride.
I think this is one of the reasons that school is so hard for mommies. It is just the first time of many that we have to begin to let go.
and we're homeschooling… so that is just delaying the inevitable, isn't it? Sigh.
I remember the first time I had to go to an appointment with a client and leave Sugar with her Auntie – it felt so wrong to not have her with me that for a few minutes I forgot all about the misery of being pregnant and wished that she was back inside me, just so that no one could ever take her away.
"Are we still having the same day we were having when I went to school?"
Usually when I ask that question, it is with negative overtones.
hmmmm….
What a cutie pie you have! I love the question is it still the same day it was. I love how their minds think.
Putting my last baby on the kindergarten bus this year was heartbreaking. For me. He had a blast and can't wait to go back each day.
I know the quiet of which you speak. I'm sitting here, reading this, while all 3 of my 'babies' are in school. It is REALLY quiet.
I think you described the Mother's Quandry so well. We crave this quiet when it's busy then miss the busy when it's quiet.
I love your line under 'leave a comment'. Awesome. :)
Anyway, I see your comments all over the blogosphere, so I have recently come on by to check out your blog and I just love it. I have three little boys myself, and I can relate to a lot of what you've been writing about (mothering, depression, a closet full of old notebooks…). Anyway, just wanted to let you know you have a new reader and I'm enjoying digging through your blog(s).
You know, I really hope heaven has an auto-freeze function, so I can replay my life and relive the sweet days for AS LONG AS I WANT, without anything changing.
One one hand, I love who they are today. But man oh man, do I miss who they were.
Isn't it amazing how they can drive us crazy when they are around but the minute they are gone it is ever worse.
He looked like he was really excited about school.
I'm sitting here at work crying… especially at this line:
"To cope with her job of letting go, a mother learns to fill her arms with pride in her child's new accomplishments, and happiness over new freedoms. She turns up the volume of life so the quiet isn't quite so deafening."
I can so relate – that's exactly how I felt when I dropped my kids off at daycare for the first time and headed to work. Turning up the volume at work so that I could justify leaving them each day.
Oh, and your last post had me crying too. You are a remarkable woman and visiting your blog and reading your words is one of the highlights of the time I spend in front of a computer. Thank you for that. :-)
Heather. That. face. I could devour him. He is amazing. And HAPPY. The pull is hard but look at that smile. Wow. What a little dude you got there.
:-)
Lee
I know it's hard but you're doing great!!
I remember Jeremiah's first day of kindergarten here. I said, "How was your day, honey?" and he said, grumpily, "too short!". After a year of montessori pre-K that lasts a full school day, he felt like he'd barely left home and they were sending him back again. I actually had to search for a private afternoon kindergarten so he could get his kindergarten fill. Which he did.
It takes a great mother to raise such a happy kid as your Miles is!
p.s. This continues to be true, even — and perhaps especially — with teenagers:
"To cope with her job of letting go, a mother learns to fill her arms with pride in her child's new accomplishments, and happiness over new freedoms. She turns up the volume of life so the quiet isn't quite so deafening."
Sitting here just moments after holding my weeping Bear who keeps asking for life to go back the way it was (Kindergarten is hard on my guy). Now I'm the one who's weeping as I read your words about forever. This job of letting go is the hardest one I'll face, but it's the one that offers the most rewards, because I'm learning every day that life is not about me.
Everyone said what I wanted to say. It is this way, always. I look at my almost 12 year old and want her to go back to pigtails piled high on her head and princess dresses. And yet I love those times now when we laugh together and talk and she gets my jokes more and more. There are good times at all ages, and there is always the desire for the past to come back, if only for a minute.
Aw, he's a cutie petootie
He has to be the cutest one in the class. Now that I'm biased or anything.
Oh my goodness that last picture just melts me! I love that look, lol.
He's just adorable and cute and adorable and cute!
Look at his face. Oh Heather, he's gonna be such a heartbreaker. Look out, momma. OH THAT FACE!
It is remarkable, this very valuable opinion
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