He is getting older.
He is getting braver.
More and more he moves away from me.
Both literally and figuratively.
Last week physically with confidence he leapt across the creek onto rocks. I had to keep calling him back. Asking him not to go that high. To stop running so far ahead. To make safe decisions.
The pull for more independence is getting stronger and stronger. He insists he is right about things we are discussing. He stomps and huffs at me when I’m enforcing boundaries. He wants to do things for himself. He can make his breaky, dress himself, fall asleep himself, toilet alone, use a phone, play independently.
Not long ago this boy needed me for everything! Like absolutely everything in order to survive. He likely still needs me to survive! BUT my role as mother is changing. I don’t need to do everything for him. He also craves and is drawn more and more to spending time with his dad. As a baby he would hardly let his dad settle him.
Now I am more of a guide.
A listening ear.
A landing place.
A tuck shop lady.
The maker of making stuff happen and getting stuff done.
But I haven’t fully lost my baby. When I tucked him into bed that night and as I sat in a chair near his door for a minute, I heard him give his fav teddy a few kisses and wish him goodnight. I hope he doesn’t grow out of those types of things too soon.
When our babies are little we feel like they will be so heavily dependent on us for so long. But the moment truly is fleeting. That doesn’t take away from its intensity knowing that though. The huge mental load that a mother carry’s continues through the different stages and ages. I
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