It's Bittersweet, More Sweet than Bitter

Two weeks ago, my son turned six. And yes, just like everyone says, the past six years have been a blur and flown by. When Xavier was a month old, I remember people telling me to enjoy the time, because it would fly by. I wanted to punch them in the face. When you are breastfeeding every two hours and living on 30 mintues of sleep here and there, the minutes and days seem to crawl by. At that point, age six seemed eons away. I was just hoping for a four hour break for my boobs and a chance to eat more than whatever I could grab with one hand. Yet, suddenly, here we are. He finished preschool and began riding a two-wheeler on the very same day. He is asking me how to spell words and wanting to write stories. He is playing at friends' houses.

These are all things that he should be doing. I know this, and I know I would be concerned if he wasn't doing these things. I remind myself that there are moms whose children will never be able to do the things he can right now. Yet, as a sappy mom, I sometimes long for the moments when all he wanted was to be held by me. I could protect him and keep him sheltered inside all day if I wanted to. Now, I have to release him into the world and realize that I am not going to know what is happening in his life every moment of the day. I have to hope that he remembers to wash his hands, say thank you, and pray that he will make good choices when put in potentially dangerous situations. Now, it's time to loosen the reigns, just by an inch or two. As much as he is becoming independent, there is still a little boy that asks for hugs and kisses before I leave for work. He begs me to play with him, read him a book, or quizzes me on the special powers of superheroes.

So, as I allow myself a moment or two to mourn the passing of another year, I also look ahead to the excitement age six will bring us.