I’d be extremely wealthy if I had a dollar every time I heard a mom say how they wished their children didn’t grow up so fast. I would have been a self-made millionaire just from the times I alone have said it. With back-to-school underway, I’m sure you’ve seen your friends’ social media posts and photos of their children. I personally enjoy the comparison ones–last year alongside the new year and seeing the growth from one grade to the next.
When our kids are young, we want to bottle up the moments of cuteness and joy and put them on a shelf to preserve forever. And as the years pass, they just go by more quickly. One thing we all have in common is the older we get, the faster time goes by. I’m unsure how that works because a minute today is still 60 seconds tomorrow. One thing is for sure–I want my baby to stop growing up so fast.
In the blink of an eye, my toddling toddler went from drinking baby bottles to selling lemonade on the neighborhood street corner. I could have sworn that he was playing soccer with a bunch of three year olds just last year, and now he’s shooting hoops with middle schoolers. Toy Story movies have been replaced by Stranger Things, and the crib is now a full-sized mattress. Twenty-one inches long is now 56 inches tall.
I blink and years have passed, and my friends all share the same sentiment about their kids.
I had a chat with a dear friend a few years ago that heavily impacted me. It’s one of those conversations I can hear over and over as if we just had it yesterday. We were catching up and filling each other in on our kids and family life. When my son was eight years old, her oldest was getting his driver’s license. She had saved enough money to surprise him with some wheels for his birthday. Sharing her proud moment made me start thinking about my son and how I might be running out of time to start saving for his first car. Or would I even buy him a car? My mind was racing.
Ever since my son was out of his newborn-size onesies, I’d get fluttering thoughts about him growing up so quickly. Sadly, eight years later, I still had these same anxious feelings, and this friendly phone call quickly turned into sheer panic.
I congratulated her on the purchase while still in disbelief she had a child old enough to drive. Then, my friend told me what I thought at that moment was the craziest thing I’d ever heard. She shared how excited she was about her boys getting older and growing up. Unintentionally, I audibly gasped and asked if she was serious.
My friend gave me the most amazing perspective that has since changed my entire outlook on my son growing up.
“I’m excited to see the young men that my boys are growing up and becoming. I get to see how they’re turning out to be as young adults, and I’m really proud of them. I look forward to the day I get to be a grandma and see their children and families.”
At this point in the phone call, I started to hyperventilate. Grandchildren? This escalated quickly.
She knew I was questioning her sanity, and she began to talk me off my ledge. My friend said, “The memories are forever, and I get to cherish all those moments. But I’m excited to see what all my hard work and tough parenting days will lead to and how the boys turn out. I can’t wait for them to have me over at their homes for dinner someday.”
This was my ah-ha moment, and I will testify that, from that moment on, I now pause every time I reminisce about the days my baby was a baby. When my son said his first words, or when he took his first steps, or when he went to his first day of kindergarten. I have the photos. I have the memorabilia from our vacations. I have his first pair of shoes stashed away in a box. I have his baby blanket and Doggy in safekeeping.
My son is growing up way too quickly, but I’m actually okay with it now.
It’s cliché–life is precious and goes by so fast. And when we have children, it seems even more so. Our memories are priceless, and our milestones are irreplaceable. But I’m also really excited now and have a lot of peace. I’m not so sad about it. I’m so proud of the young man my son is growing up to be, and I enjoy his company in new ways I haven’t before. I’m making new memories, not replacing old ones.
Some days I get nervous, and I may even think I’m failing. I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t. I worry if I’ve prepared him for life in all the ways he needs to be. But at the end of the day as his mom, my goal is to make him the best functioning human being possible and a worthy contributor to society. I’m doing an okay job. He’s alive, he is well, and he is happy. I certainly can’t ask to rewind time, but I occasionally press pause. I’m committed to living in the present and enjoying the now because looking backward isn’t going to change tomorrow.
One. Day. At. A. Time. I will live today, today, and tomorrow, tomorrow. And I will cherish the memories of yesterday whenever I desire.
I am incredibly wealthy. I’m rich in all the ways that matter, namely, in love. That won’t change no matter how many years pass or how quickly time goes by.
The opinions expressed in this post are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of ABQ Mom, its executive team, other contributors to the site, its sponsors or partners, or any organizations the aforementioned might be affiliated with.
