In my 20’s, kids were never on my radar. Babies terrified me, toddlers are a**holes, and moms of teens can vouch why animals eat their young.
But the universe saw fit to deliver two bouncing boys, and now I Mom. I Mom so freakin’ hard. Our baby just graduated high school, and like his brother, he’s chomping at the bit to get the hell outta dodge.
Our first kid had to go. It was him or me. But this one is resourceful, self-sufficient, painless. He wasn’t always easy. The preschool years were a blur of tantrums and head butts that made me question if he was right in the head. I vowed to break that high-spirited bronc before he broke me.
We’ve never met a mom who wasn’t working. By the age of 18, parents have invested 9.5 million minutes rearing a child. Graduation is a chance for them to find their own glory. Like a Netflix show, we get to watch the plot unfold on how we did preparing our kids for the world.
My 11 lb. – 12 oz. baby has acquired the sweet taste of freedom, and he’s hit the ground running. I pray it’s not with scissors. I’m gonna take a page from their independence playbook, and do the same. It’s hard to tell which of us is more excited!
In French, you don’t say I miss you. You say “tu me manques,” which means you’re missing from me. We’ve given our kids wings to fly and roots to come back. I’m grateful they’re able to experience university life away from home, but I’ll miss the tech support!
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