Extraneous

He's not a baby. He hasn't been for a long time. My little boy who I didn't think would ever learn to walk because I never wanted to put him down strode away into the big world of second grade today. No tears, no backward glances, no fear, no second thoughts.

Last night, as almost an aside, he said "I'm scared about school, Mom.  I'm scared because all those kids have known each other for a long time, and I haven't." But then he walked away before I could deliver my comforting speech that I had been preparing all evening, just waiting for the moment when he would ask for it, just knowing that eventually he would express his terror, and I'd be there for him.  And he didn't need me. Or at least not in the way I thought he would.  He didn't want my advice, or my hugs, he just wanted me to know what was on his mind.  That he had something to overcome, but that he could handle it without me.

It's been a long time coming.  He doesn't ask to sit on my lap anymore, he stopped asking me to carry him a long time ago, he insists on having his opinion and voice heard at every opportunity, even when he knows it's not going to get him what he wants.

He's not even a teenager yet.  He's only 7 and I'm already bemoaning his transition into big-kidhood. But if/when you have your own kids, you'll understand.  How your heart can break and yet rejoice with every passing day.  Because while you're so excited to meet the people they're becoming, you're mourning the loss of the baby they knew so well.  Sure, babies are needy, exhausting, and freaking hard. But it's a heady feeling, knowing you're the center, the pillar of someone's existence.  And although sometimes you feel like they're controlling your life, the fact is, you control theirs. It's actually kind of nice.  And when they're not babies any more, you lose that control, and they grow up with or without your permission.  You lose your minion...

So here's to you, Mom & Dad, for letting me go.  For letting me be who I am, despite the fact that nothing I've done with my life turned out the way you thought it would (yes, they advised against med school...).  Despite the fact that having me meant the loss of that baby girl who relied on you so heavily.  I hope it's been semi-worth it.  I'll always need you.  Like my son still needs me.   Just maybe not as much as I/he did.

And that's okay.