It seems like just yesterday that I was meeting my Boy Child for the very first time, soaking him in as I marvelled at all of his newborn glory.
I remember counting his fingers, and his toes, and staring into his bright eyes for hours at a time as he watched me speaking to him, his little mouth forming all kinds of shapes as he tried to mimic me.
I remember being so proud of him, as he learned to roll, to crawl, to sit and to walk. I remember hearing his little voice creating his first words, and the way he would clench his chubby little fists and show off his toddler muscles, because he loved to make us laugh.
I remember walking him into kinder for the first time, watching his eyes well up with uncertainty, and I remember realising that from that moment on, my heart was going to be spending more time away from me every day.
And I remember the way I felt as he embraced school, with so much vigour and charisma, and how I couldn’t believe that somehow, despite my complete cluelessness as a parent, my Boy Child was thriving, and growing, and developing into this amazing person.
Right now, we are preparing for a new phase, as the beginning of his high school years loom ahead, and again, he is changing.
In the same way that he innately learned to roll, to crawl, to sit, and to walk, he is learning all about himself and his world, only now, it’s more independent of me.
He doesn’t need my hand on his back to stop him from tumbling over. He doesn’t need to hold my finger as he toddles down the hallway. He doesn’t need to be lifted into a car, or buckled into his seat, or to be reminded not to run in carparks.
He’s got all of those things sorted.
When I look at him now, I can see that I am raising a man. And I can see that what he needs from me is changing, again.
The responsibility of that task is not lost on me, believe me.
He might not need me to butter his toast, or run his bath, or lay out his clothes any more. But at the end of the day, when he needs to talk something through, or when he needs a safe space to express his frustrations, and when he’s got questions about his world that he can’t figure out, well, that’s when I realise that this Boy Child of mine needs me more than ever.
Thus, as he changes, so do I.
As he grows, so do I.
And as he learns, so do I.
Sums up motherhood in a nutshell, I think.
Anyone out there feeling similar?