And I don't know how to write about it. I have been thinking about this change for some time now. Lying awake at night trying to put into words what it is I am feeling. But there is no one feeling that pins it down. There is sadness and anticipation. Excitement and longing. A little fear mixed with a calming freedom. None of it makes sense. It's exhilarating and terrifying.
My babies are not babies anymore.
Of course they are my babies. Even when I'm squeezing in one last kiss before they drive away or walk the aisle. They will always be my babies. But that's not where I am at today. Today I am coming to a place of knowing that mothering an infant is now a part of my past. There is independence in this house and it's growing greater by the day.
I catch a glimpse of her looking like a big kid. Lounging and climbing and telling me "No". She doesn't need me in the same way that she used to. Wanting to be where he is. Thinking he created the Universe. Loving being his sister. Determined to earn his favor. Taking small steps away from me, the one who used to hold that spot in her world.
He's going to pre-school in a few weeks. And I just know he will walk tall onto that bus and be just fine. He is sure that he will come back. He trusts that. And that will encourage him to go on the adventure, unafraid. He will not know about the tears I will cry that day. Tears of joy and sadness for my lost baby and my found big kid. Or that she will miss him. Ah, this post is getting harder and harder to write through my tears.
There are no more tiny babies here. They have been replaced by little kids excited to figure out this big world. And now it seems they are both big enough to actually give it a go. Less fragile. Walking their own stairs. Dressing themselves, or at least trying to.
And now we must change to. Daddy and I. We are becoming different parents. Learning how to do this. How to parent these independent and awesome kids who are determined to grow. Just when we were getting rock solid in parenting little babies. It's time to change. It's time to evolve. This life is moving forward. I'm not ready but I don't get a say. So I am working on it. Writing about it. Shedding some tears while missing my squishy wriggly babes. And smiling from ear to ear watching them talk to each other. I imagine Mr. Pants will let Plum know that it's ok when Mama cries. I imagine that someday he might say, "Don't worry, Plum. Mama's ok. She cries all the time because she loves us. It's weird." and maybe he will take her hand and they will run off to play while I put myself back together.