The Bigger They Are, the Harder We Fall

Originally posted July 28/2006 on "Mommyhood Confidential"


When I was little, it seemed to be taking forever for me to grow up. My mom would sigh over how quickly my brother and I were growing, and I would honestly believe she was completely nuts. All of the cool big-kid stuff (then the high-school stuff, then the grown-up stuff... all the hyphenated stuff, really) seemed so far out of reach, and time dragged as I waited.

Oh, how the tables have turned! People tell you before you have a baby, "Enjoy him while he's little! They grow up so quickly..." I can honestly say I have taken this advice, and I have tried to enjoy as much of my time with Baby Simon as I could. I'll admit that there have been moments that I wouldn't exactly want to bronze and stick on a shelf, but I've reminded myself that nothing lasts forever, good times or bad. Still, I didn't understand exactly what people were telling me until he started growing up.

Yes, I know he's not grown up yet; he's not even a year old. We still have a few years before he's off to school, blah, blah, blah. But the tiny lump of newborn I once held in my arms is now a sturdy little guy who won't sit still long enough to get his diaper changed; he's just too busy! And the little critter that looked to me to satisfy every want and need is crawling around exploring the world independently (under careful supervision), and he'd prefer that I not interfere, thank you very much.

Oh, he still needs me. Every bump on the head requires kisses, and he hasn't mastered cooking quite yet. There's no question that he's getting away from me, though; Simon, who was once a part of my own body, hardly needs my breastmilk anymore. His needs are changing from physical to emotional, social, psychological... Where once I could fix almost anything by sticking a boob in his mouth (sorry for that mental image, folks), I now have to try to understand the complex needs of a little boy, and accept that I might not be able to fix everything.

I'm not going to try to hold him back. One of the most important measures of a parent's success is how well a child can live on his own when the time comes. I'm glad that time is still many years away... but when we get there, I know that years will seem like days. I pray that I'll continue to cherish every day-even the boring ones, the teething ones and the upcoming "Mommy-you're-not-my-friend!" ones. They'll be over far too soon.