Parenting Insights
By Jamie Roberts
Updated: July 30, 2023
Originally Published: August 15, 2014
Just last week, my 21-year-old son, Jacob, strolled into the kitchen and asked if I could assist him in making a cup of coffee.
For those of you who own a Keurig machine, like mine, you know it’s pretty straightforward. You pop open the lid, insert a K-cup filled with coffee, choose your preferred cup size, and hit “Brew.” Simple enough, right?
But Jacob is my firstborn. He was the one who reaped the benefits of having a young, eager mom who lovingly laid out his clothes each night, cut the crusts off his sandwiches, and peeled his apples. Nowadays, I struggle just to remember to buy apples, let alone peel them.
As I held back a chuckle at his request for coffee-making help, I noticed him sit down and pull out his iPhone. That’s when it hit me—he wasn’t really looking for assistance; he just wanted me to make it for him.
“Alright,” I said, “let’s start by opening the machine.” I guided him through the steps, and before long, he was savoring a steaming cup of coffee.
Shortly after, my 11-year-old son, Ethan, entered the kitchen and whipped up an omelette. He grabbed a pan, heated it, cracked an egg into a bowl, and even added extra egg whites from the fridge. He sprayed the pan with cooking spray, cooked his breakfast, and topped it off with Frank’s Hot Sauce while watching Drake and Josh. It’s always fascinating to see the stark differences between my oldest and youngest children. The younger ones have thrived on the independence that comes from having an older sibling pave the way.
Just that morning, I dropped Jacob off to catch a bus heading north for his summer internship—a role that required him to dress in business-casual attire and act like an adult. Watching him pour himself a bowl of cereal before we left was a moment that took my breath away; my little boy was becoming a man.
Leading up to his first day, I’ll admit there was a fair bit of hand-holding. We shopped for grown-up clothes, bought his monthly bus pass, and even did a test run to find a parking lot where he could leave his car for free all day. Reading the bus schedule was a bit tricky for him, but hey, he’s never had to do anything like this before.
Ethan and the other siblings have always had a front-row seat to Jacob’s milestones—whether it was learning to play an instrument or navigating college applications, he set the standard for them.
So, when Jacob got out of my car this morning and headed toward the bustling crowd waiting for the commuter bus, I felt a tug at my heart. I fought the urge to jump out and ensure he boarded the right bus as I watched him disappear into the throng, his new jacket becoming smaller in my rearview mirror.
Later, he texted me to say he was on the bus and en route (thumbs-up emoji). “Thanks for the ride and everything else, Mom,” he added (with heart emojis), and I knew he meant it. Despite our occasional disagreements, he understands I’m always in his corner.
I recognize there’s a delicate balance between being a helicopter parent and simply offering support. I hope I’m falling into the latter category. I’m confident that by the time Ethan is ready to venture into the real world in a decade, he’ll have seen his older siblings navigate these transitions, leading to less hand-holding for him.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. After watching Jacob embark on this new chapter, I’m grateful to still have my little boy who hugs me for no reason, sings Maroon 5 at the top of his lungs in the shower, and sometimes forgets to use shampoo.
Time flies, people. One moment you’re handing your child a Gatorade, and the next, they’re holding a commuter mug. Everyone warns you about how quickly it goes, but when you’re in the thick of carpooling and chicken nuggets, it seems endless. Then, suddenly, you find yourself reflecting, “What just happened?”
All I know is I’m eagerly anticipating picking Jacob up from the bus later and hearing about his day over dinner to celebrate his new adventure. He may have traded in his skater attire for khakis and a dress shirt, but he will always be my baby.
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Summary:
In this reflective piece, Jamie Roberts shares a heartfelt account of parenting through different stages, focusing on the evolving independence of her firstborn, Jacob, as he embarks on a summer internship. The contrast with her younger son, Ethan, highlights the ways siblings can learn from one another. Through moments of pride and nostalgia, Jamie recognizes the bittersweet nature of watching her children grow up while cherishing the little moments that still connect them.