A few weeks ago I was blindsided by a huge unexpected wave of emotion that ended with me doing an ugly cry in the parking lot of my son’s summer camp.  I suddenly realized I was inches away from a huge roots and wings moment in parenting. I’m sending my son off to kindergarten! I’m trusting others to help guide him and teach him. I’m saying one more goodbye to add to the pile of those life moments I’ve made with the boy who made me a mom.

I knew it was coming. I wrote about it back in 2010…

“Parenting is filled with these moments of melancholy. When we gave birth to our beautiful children we all knew parenting wasn’t going to be easy, and that it would have many tough moments. But I know I personally didn’t expect being a parent to be such a mixed bag of emotions. That with every big (and little) accomplishment or stage our child enters there would be sadness in letting go.”

I’m so proud of him that he’s so excited and ready to start school, but I also think its okay to feel sad about such a happy moment. For the past five years he’s been with me nearly every day for hours on end. Starting school feels like and is such a big milestone. It means that your child is ready to separate from you and spread his wings a little bit. So while I feel confident that he’s fully prepared for this moment, the letting go doesn’t always come easily.

Admittedly, I take comfort in the fact that when school is over my boy is still little enough to want to crawl up into my lap with his bunny and snuggle while we read books before bed. That he still needs me to kiss his boo-boos, and help him understand his emotions like the sadness associated with one of his best friends moving across the country. That he comes to me with his super creative artwork, and that I’m the first one he wants to tell his silly jokes to – even if they often include something about farts or butts… These are the gifts of motherhood.  It’s milestones and moments like this that help remind me that our moments together are fleeting but the roots we are creating are strong ones.

Each stage of motherhood feels significant because it is. Our jobs are constantly evolving, and it is okay to cry. So to all the moms who will be doing an ugly cry in a parking lot after dropping of their child at school, I will be there with you shedding happy tears. Letting go isn’t as easy as it sounds, but the gift of watching our children grow up is the best one any mother can ask for.

If you are a parent who has been there and done that already, what advice would you share with a parent letting go of one more big life moments?

A note on the artwork: I asked my favorite designer to put my favorite motherhood quote onto something I could hang on my wall as an everyday reminder. I love what she came up with. The red birds not only symbolize my children, but also my own mother.

Any parent can tell you that life is full of “roots & wings” moments.  Our time with our children is so fleeting.  While we may have a lifetime to love them, they are really only “ours” for 18 or so years at which point we pray we have given them enough life moments to grow their roots and spread their wings and enter the world on their own to fly.

With the anticipation of my first born son starting school for the first time this fall, and later this winter our second son’s birth, I have spent a lot of time lately reflecting back on my son’s first moments and the firsts I have had as a mother.

These are the blessings we as parents are given.  The obvious and the not so obvious moments we cherish and remember for a lifetime.

As a young family, our firsts have only just begun, but already the moments have added up to the most precious gift I have ever been given.

The gift of parenthood.

The first moment I realized I was going to be a mother.

The first time I felt my baby kick inside of me.

The first time I held my son in my arms.

The first time I got peed on.

His first real smile.

His first Halloween.

The first time my husband deployed after our son’s birth.

His first tooth.

The first airplane ride.

His first trip to the beach.

The first time I doubted my ability to parent alone through deployments.

The first time I realized bad days are fixed by an infectious baby laugh.

Our first Christmas.

His first solid food.

The first time to a Cubs game.

His first birthday.

The first steps he took.

The first time I heard him say “Mama”.

The first time he said “I love you”.

The first haircut.

The first time I broke my own parenting rules.

Our first family trip to Disneyland.

The first time we told our son he was going to be a big brother.

And soon, his first day of school.

There have of course been a million other first moments in my son’s life, millions of first moments as a parent, and so many firsts to be had with my second son.  Many brought smiles, some brought tears, and others made us laugh out loud.  But they all shaped me as a mother and allowed me to embrace life as a parent.

This post has been inspired by the Odd Life of Timothy Green. Disney’s movie to be released August 15th.  I was lucky to be one of the first in the world to see this movie back in April, and the as I walked away from this movie I couldn’t help but to be inspired by the message of the movie.

No matter how you become a parent, no matter what kind of parent you are, we are all blessed with the gifts of life’s first moments.  We just have to keep our eyes and hearts open to them.

Follow The Odd Life of Timothy Green on Facebook and Twitter

Dear Squishy,

How does someone who once was the cutest little squishy of a baby grow up to be such a sweet and independent toddler so quickly?

Today you started camp at Kidville here in Las Vegas.  As excited as you were to start I have to admit I was a little nervous for the day.

For one, my little baby is going to camp for the first time!  Spreading those wings just a little bit further… My apron strings are starting to come undone, and I am not sure I am ready for it.

Second, you are a sweet and wonderful little toddler, but you are a toddler.  Recently one who has been having a hard time sharing, and sometimes even playing with others.

Third… Ah my baby is growing up!

As I watched you play nicely (mostly) with the other kids, look up to your counselors, and enjoy every task, craft, and project put in front of you I was really watching you grow up right before my eyes. It was the feeling I had watching you that surprised me the the most.  Instead of feeling sad about it, I was overwhelmed with pride.

(Baking Soda and Colored Vinegar Science Experiments!)

I was proud of your behavior, and excited to watch as you learn to interact with the other campers.  I loved watching you learn the cause and effect of a toddler science experiment, and I nearly burst when you shared your snack with your new friend.

While watching you grow up is bittersweet, these days it is certainly more sweet than bitter.  I am so proud to watch my baby become a little boy.  You are a special little man.

Xoxxo,
Mama

*Dear Squishy is my version of (a less than) Wordless Wednesday where each week I write a letter to my son.

Dear Squishy,

When you were little and you got sick I could hold you all day long.

I could sing to you, and rock you, and pat your bottom until you fell to sleep.

I could take you in the shower with me, and hold you in the steam, or keep you warm as the cool water took your fevers down.

I could protect you from as much of the sickness as I could.

But now that you are older, you aren’t as willing to accept my help.  You, my love, are the most strong-willed, and stubborn little sick toddler I know.

You play until you physically can’t and then you try to play some more.

You fight sleep, you push the cool compress of your forehead.

You don’t want to stay in our bed, and you don’t want to be out of it.

You asked for your daddy, and wanted your mommy.

You asked for your mommy, and wanted your daddy.

You asked to go home, but you were sitting in our bed in our home.

Your little feelings get hurt when plans get canceled, I couldn’t even look at you as you cried to me about wanting to go to Kidville Camp today.

You’re are not even three years old yet, and watching you learn the reality of reaching your limits is heartbreaking for a mother to see.

I can’t seem to comfort you the way I used to, and it hurts to watch you struggle through an illness.

I know as the years pass you will want me less and less and need me more and more.  At least that is how I feel about needing my mother when I am sick.

I see glimpses of you on a daily basis and know that that is what my 16 year old son will look at one day.

But today, today you are still my almost three year old baby.

And as the fever hits a high point, you reach out to me, and ask me to snuggle you.

You tell me you are home when I lift you in my arms and rock you in a chair that your legs dangle off the sides instead of fitting so neatly inside.

And I cry knowing that this moment right here is another moment that you just grew up in front of my eyes, and cherish the moments of knowing that today mommy can still make you feel better at least for another day.

Xoxxo,
Mama

*Dear Squishy is my version of (a less than) Wordless Wednesday where each week I write a letter to my son.

Dear Squishy,

The other day as I looked over at you playing, I found tears springing to my eyes.

You were playing at Kidville, and you were doing everything all on your own.  You even shared with another child without prompting.  It was as if you had grown up right in front of my face.

And it hit me in that moment how quickly time catches up with you.  I admit I have been procrastinating on looking at preschools, because it means you start your journey into spreading your wings.

When you were 6 weeks old I cried as I packed up you 3-6 month clothes.  I couldn’t believe how fast you were growing, and I needed a moment to mourn the time gone by.  I shared my feelings in a Facebook post, and got the most beautiful letter from my mom not to long after.

In it she shared that the two greatest gifts a parent can give their children are the gifts of roots and wings, and talked about the joys and sorrows of letting go.

I know now even after less than 3 short years of life, that parenting is going to be filled with these moments of mourning time past and celebrating accomplishments at the same time.

You are growing into a sweet, active, sometimes crazy, adorable little boy.  I can’t even properly express how proud I am to see you doing things like playing independently and sharing with your friends.

While I was standing there having this moment of watching you spread your wings a little more, you hit your head really hard on a bar.  When it was clear that this was more than a little bump, I came towards you to comfort you, and you hiccupped out through your tears “Make it better mama!”  Arms like roots wrapped tightly around each other, I kissed your head, and whispered “I love you.”

Roots and wings hand in hand.  Parenting in its most simple form.

I love you Squishy man!

Xoxxo,
Mama

I have been blogging now for 20 months.  And I am amazed at how much I have learned in that 20 months, as well as how much I have grown in the past 20 months.

I love and appreciate all the comments and support from my readers.  (Probably more than you know.)

When I started blogging, it was all about my son – my amazing son Squish. 

Then we my hubs deployed, I really dove into it.  I rediscovered my love for writing.  And it 100% kept me from going insane.

As I have grown my blog, already in a short period of time I have been exposed to so many amazing opportunities.  Things I never thought I would do, products that I may have never found, and blogging friends that have turned into real life friends.

However, I have also found myself taking on things that I probably wouldn’t have because I didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity it offers.  I have found myself spending hours upon hours working on my blog, and I was recently told by my hubs that I really need to look at how and why I am blogging.

I blog because: I LOVE to write.

Over the next few months I am going to be working on writing about what I love.  Getting back to the place where writing was something I looked forward to, rather then had to do.

I am going to be bowing out of the Green Mama Blog Hop.  While I love the concept of it and appreciate being asked to help host it, I already co-host two memes and felt like I wasn’t able to give my best to it, or to the people who were linking up.  I will still link up, and support the Green Mama Blog Hop in anyway I can.

I plan on writing more about my Squishy, and raising a toddler.

I would like to get more involved in using my blog and other social media for charitable causes that are near and dear to me.

I will continue to offer reviews and giveaways, because I really do love sharing products/companies/and momprenuers that I find to be awesome and great.

I am going to be participating in the SitsGirls 31 Days to Building a Better Blog – round 2.

I will be attending SheCon11, Blogher11, and really really hope to be able to attend EVO11 as well.  I attended the Bloggy Boot Camp in St. George last year had a blast, learned a ton, and caught the bug.  I am eager to learn, share, and continue to grow.

I have a series of posts coming up on something that in the past 20 months has also become a passion for me. (TEASE)

Many changes abound, stay tuned!!

I do have one question for you – my awesome readers:

What features do you like reading about most on my blog?

Please feel free to share – likes, dislikes, things you would like to read about… I am open!!

Linking up to Fresh Mommy Sunday Citar

My son has been fighting his only nursing session of the day. The past few weeks, nursing has only been frustrating for him, and work for me. Last night I nursed for the last time. I am thrilled to have made it this long. I am counting my blessings. I am sad it ended this way. I always thought it would be him nursing, gazing into my eyes, me knowing it was our last time nursing. A tear or two. A sweet end to a rough beginning.

Instead I knew it was the right thing to do. My son self-weaned himself. I had gotten him to a point where he was ready to be done. I just thought it would last longer, and end different. I am kind of numb to it right now. Despite the fact that my son was ready, my breasts are still feeling full having not nursed in over 24 hours. I knew being a mother would be filled with ups and downs, but I never realized it you could be filled with such sorrow at the same time as you are proud to have made it this long.

Taken 4 days prior to self-weaning.

Recently, I have been reading a lot about the sadness associated with the beginning of a new school year all of the letting go it requires.  I am not there yet, but oh my, I can tell you I will be a wreck. Yes, I will be happy that my little man is growing up, and is heading on to places that will help him develop as a person, but there is always a sense of sadness when our children begin a new stage in their lives.

The truth is that parenting is filled with these moments of melancholy.  When we gave birth to our beautiful children we all knew parenting wasn’t going to be easy, and that it would have many tough moments.  But I know I personally didn’t expect being a parent to be such a mixed bag of emotions. That with every big (and little) accomplishment or stage our child enters there would be sadness in letting go.

When Squish was six weeks old he had already grown out of his 0-3 month clothes.(He never fit in newborn clothes being 10 lbs 2 oz at birth.)  In a mix of postpartum emotions, I found myself crying as I packed up these clothes.  I posted on Facebook something to the effect of “I didn’t realize the simple act of packing up clothes could be so sad.”  My mother sent me a message that day that has stuck with me through every happy/sad moment, here are the central parts of that letter.

One of the hardest things about being a mother is that every day is another goodbye – the old adage about the best two gifts you can give your children are roots and wings is really true. Only no one said the wings part would be so hard, especially if you have worked hard on the roots part!

All of the benefits of motherhood are gifts – like little hands on my face and the looks of absolute adoration. Not to mention the knowledge that my first little girl has grown to be healthy and kind, and is now a loving mother because of the “Letting go” I did.

~my mom.

The roots and wings adage has been something I try to remember at the times when I find myself saddened over moments that I should be celebrating.  Moments like packing away old cloths, Squish’s first birthday, the moment he started walking, and I am sure I will feel the same twinge in the pit of my stomach when my “baby” starts school.

For now I will keep reminding myself that as a parent I will continue to give my child to great gifts of roots and wings.  I will take joy the gifts of little hands, slobbery kisses, and his big blue eyes looking up at me saying “mama” will be the rewards I get for letting go and giving my baby wings to continue to grow into the amazing little man he is quickly becoming!

(That and the fact that at almost 29 I still need my mother on a pretty regular basis, so there is hope that my Squish isn’t going anywhere for a long time.)

We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of “starting a family.” “We’re taking a survey,” she says half-joking. “Do you think I should have a baby?” “It will change your life,” I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral. “I know,” she says, “no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations.” But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable. I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, “What if that had been MY child?” That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of “Mom!” will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitation. I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. she might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby’s sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy’s desire to go to the men’s room rather than the women’s at McDonald’s will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My daughter’s relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic. I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts. My daughter’s quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. “You’ll never regret it,” I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter’s hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings!

Xoxxo,
Us