This morning marked a significant moment for me: I dropped off my youngest at preschool for the very first time. As I drove away, I caught sight of my 3-year-old, proudly donning his little backpack, reaching for his teacher’s hand, and waving goodbye. That farewell felt drawn out, filled with a mixture of excitement and tenderness. His beaming smile was contagious, lighting up the entire scene.
Suddenly, I was overcome with emotion. Tears streamed down my face in what can only be described as an all-out ugly cry—so intense that I arrived at my 10:00 therapy session looking as if I had just emerged from a rainstorm. I had never envisioned myself as the sentimental type, especially with three boys born in quick succession. My emotional side had often taken a backseat amid the chaos of motherhood.
When my eldest learned to crawl, I was battling severe nausea from pregnancy. I was too busy hoping to feel better to fully appreciate his milestones. On my firstborn’s first day of preschool, I didn’t return to an empty house; instead, I took my 6-month-old with me to run errands, where grocery shopping with one child felt like a breeze compared to managing two.
As my middle child took his first steps, I was in the hospital dealing with complications. His walking was a relief; it meant less whining as he could now keep up with his older brother. And when my youngest finally called me “Mama,” I was lost in the fog of postpartum depression, robbed of joy and unable to embrace the moment.
Life has shifted for the better over the past year. My youngest is now almost 2½, and I no longer feel submerged in chaos. I’ve learned to take deep, refreshing breaths, allowing me to savor each fleeting moment rather than rushing through them. I’ve been dropping my boys off at preschool for four years without shedding a single tear. They’ve cried, but I’ve always been the composed mom, focused on my ever-growing to-do list.
Today, however, something felt different. For the first time, I realized my children were leaving me, and that emotional shift was powerful. It was as if the imprints of their little lives pressed against my heart were finally being acknowledged. My boys are growing; they’ve moved past the baby phase and into a world filled with endless possibilities. Each day, they wake up with eager anticipation, exploring, pushing boundaries, and learning to be independent.
As they embark on this journey, they invite me to witness the magic of their little adventures. They’re encouraging me to be present and engaged, and today, I finally am. I’m discovering the beauty of being a sentimental mom, ensuring I don’t miss out on these precious moments.
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In summary, motherhood is a journey filled with beautiful, fleeting moments that deserve to be cherished. As I learn to embrace my sentimental side, I make a conscious effort to be present for my children, savoring every milestone and memory along the way.