Okay, typically I'm not a big sap when my kids show signs of growing up. More than once I've heard from other mom friends, "Why can't they stay little forever?" but I've never been able to wrap my head around the sentiment.
Case in point - a coworker/friend at my old job came to work the day her first child started kindergarten, and as she told me about drop-off I could hear the sadness in her voice. Having experienced this milestone with my older child I tried to comfort and encourage her, telling her how much fun her son will have and how cool it will be to see what he learns every day (all of which is completely true). And I almost had her, dammit - until another coworker came by and asked what was wrong. When we explained, she immediately took my friend in her arms and howled, "Oh NO! I'm so sorry..." as if her son needed a heart transplant. And they both proceeded to cry.
I have tried to cry. I have tried to feel that Mommy-isn't-needed sadness. But to me, milestones like this are a thing of joy and beauty. Sure, it means that they don't stay little forever. It also means I don't have to pay for daycare forever, cut their meat forever, tie their shoes forever, cart them around to sports/rehearsals/friends' houses forever, etc. Even more importantly, I get to bear witness as they become who they are destined to be. With each passing year I see more clearly the kind of person they are and what they might do once they go out into the world. It fills me with pride and makes me hopeful as their generation inches closer and closer to leading us.
So you can imagine my surprise this morning when I asked my sixth-grade son if he wants me to chaperone his trip to the Medieval Faire in a couple of weeks. Normally with both of my kids, the mere hint that I'll chaperone a field trip elicits whooping and hollering and enthusiastic thank yous from whichever offspring I have asked. This morning, however, was not like other mornings.
Me: Here's the field trip form for the Medieval Faire - want me to chaperone? (poises pen to check "Yes" on the form)
Him: (hesitates) Oh, yeah. Um. Well...
Wow.
He doesn't want me to go. And it's quite obvious.
So I nonchalantly put the pen down and say, "That's okay. You can think about it for a day or so; it's not due until Thursday."
Yeah, that didn't seem to make him any more comfortable. So now it's really obvious that he doesn't want me there, but he's trying to not come out and say it because he doesn't want to disappoint me. I assure him that if he'd rather I not go on this trip, he can just say so and I'm completely fine with it.
So... he does. In a very sweet and considerate way, but he does. And I have to admit, it made me pretty sad.
Granted, I'm still trying to figure out if it's because my presence is no longer wanted by my son, or if I'd rather pay the $5 chaperone admission price for the Faire instead of the ridiculous $14 they normally charge. But I'm guessing it's more the former. And yes - it hurts.
Still, it's a sign that he's finding his own way. Becoming his own person. And the way I see it, if they don't become more independent over time, then I'm not doing my job.
Now that would make me cry.
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2 comments:
Still remember the day that I told my mom I didn't want her to drop me off in the drop off circle at school any more (4th grade). When I think about that, I feel horrible, but it was THAT step.
So glad my dogs will never come to that stage...I hope.
Janice---this post was fantastic! I admit that I did cry when Tommy started Kindergarten, but it was not because I was sad---I'm just a sap! (You should see me in the Hallmark store!)
I love the stages they go through as they change and figure things out for themselves. They're bonkers and silly and ridiculous along the way.
But, as my husband says, "We're not raising children--we're raising adults." THAT is our job.
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