From the very start, I was a bit of a control enthusiast. I refused to bottle-feed any of my kids, and instead kept them attached to me, quite literally. Those days were filled with the aroma of milk and the constant presence of little ones clinging to me. I cherished every moment as I wandered around, sleep-deprived and milk-stained, always with a child on my hip or in my arms.
As they grew, I found myself longing for the earlier stages of their lives—wishing to relive when my eldest was just a toddler, when my middle child was still wobbly on his feet, and before my youngest dashed around the house. I worried they were maturing too quickly. During those times, I was the quintessential smother mother, surviving on minimal sleep and loving every minute of it.
Looking back at that version of myself—always in the nursery school hallways, volunteering for every event, and baking treats for the most trivial reasons—it’s hard to believe how much I’ve transformed. My boys are now 14, 11, and 8 years old, navigating high school, middle school, and third grade. They still rely on me for countless tasks, but I’ve shifted my expectations. Now, I expect them to step up and help themselves more. When they don’t, my patience wears thin, and I transform into the not-so-sweet, somewhat irritable mom who says things like, “Move it!” or “Pick up your stuff!”
It may seem a bit selfish, but I’ve embraced a new phase of life focused on me. I’m diving into writing with enthusiasm, but it’s a time-consuming endeavor. If I’m spending all my energy reminding them to tidy up, I can’t sit comfortably at my desk, enjoying my creative outlet.
I no longer crave the constant closeness of my children (though I always appreciate a good hug). I want them to be independent so I can reclaim some of my independence too. I want them to take care of their own needs so I can focus on mine. It’s a bit bittersweet; sometimes I feel like a bad mom when I reminisce about the emotional milestones, like when my oldest stopped needing his stuffed animals or when my youngest confidently went to school without shedding a tear.
The mom who used to host playdates just to keep her kids close now finds comfort in knowing they can be engaged at a friend’s house. I once needed them to depend on me, but these days, there are moments when I relish the idea of just being alone and not having to cater to anyone but myself.
I recognize that soon enough, my boys won’t be around as much, and I’ll miss those little requests for help with everyday things, like making breakfast or finding sports gear. I know I’ll look back fondly at how present I was in their lives.
But for now, I just want them to pick up their mess!
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