It's not always evident but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. During different stages in our lives, time seems to crawl. Through financially struggling as a young adult and through some of the harder times in your life; time is a turtle walking through peanut butter. Time can almost feel like it's at a standstill.
Then, there are the happier times in our lives, the times when we wish time would slow down the warp speed it travels at. The funny thing about motherhood is, I remember feeling a little of both. This may be one of those things you don't say out loud as a mom but, I remember telling myself as I was fumbling through the house for the 3rd time in the middle of a night that this part of life was temporary. That this time would pass. I knew I wouldn’t always be exhausted and sleep deprived. I knew there would come a time when I would feel human again, when time would pass. How much I would give to go back to those days; the days when I was consumed by the soothing baby smell and the cries that were meant just for me. I miss the days of the sweet sound of my boys calling for "momma". I miss the days of Backyardigans concerts and little toddler giggles. I miss the days of trying to carry a toddler and a baby around while doing the million other things I needed to get done. I miss the chaos and the rogue cheerios and the cries and the total exhaustion. At the time, I honestly didn't think I would ever make it through those days. But, here I am, wondering where the hell time went.
Now, typically I am not super sentimental about parenthood. I am a rational, working mom who knows my time with my kids will not last forever. I'm rational a good majority of the time. I know I am raising them to be independent, free-thinking, compassionate men (I hope). I also know that my job is to guide, teach and lead them as long as I have them at home. Even when I dropped them off at school for their first day this year, I didn't cry. I smiled. I was strong and positive and encouraging.
But this morning, something happened. My oldest son got out of my car and walked with a friend up to his middle school. Now, that doesn't seem like something worth crying over but I did. I spent the car ride to work emotional, wiping tears and reminiscing on the little boy who has all of sudden grown up. My little boy who no longer needs to me to walk him into school, because he's got this, made me realize how much he's grown.
So, here I am wondering, where did time go?
I blinked and now my kids have lives of their own. They have friends and social lives and don't need me like they once did. They have video games to conquer, events to get to and games to be played. My role as the center of their universe has diminished to the person who finds their lost shit. Don't get me wrong, I know they still need me and mom will always be here but I feel the shift. As tiny and incremental as it's happened, I feel it. I feel the tug of the next phase of parenthood and I am trying to prepare myself. I have to prepare myself for what was once story time and cuddles, is now sleepovers and get-togethers. I can do this. So, I wipe my tears. I smile and remember the days of snuggles and kisses and know that no matter how many things I have gotten wrong in this life, loving those two boys is something I have done so right. And so, I will continue to be there. I will continue to adapt to each new phase of motherhood as it comes. I may shed a tear or two along the way but I will do that knowing I have loved my boys so fiercely and no matter how fast the next few years go or where they end up as adults, I will always be mom.