When we walk alone and I don’t speak they do. She tells me about her friends and her days and her dreams and her fears.
So I walk with my kids and listen.
Jane wants to go to the movies, with her friends. Alone. She will be eleven this fall.
I think it’s a good idea. Push and pull.
Jane grow up. No stay with me Jane. She’s growing, and it’s proof that we’ve parented well. She’s safe and secure and confident.
I’m proud and wistful all at once.
Ah, my baby turned 11 this last Spring. Like you I am treasuring and enjoying it but also sad because my baby is no longer my baby – hoping that yours won’t grow as prodigiously as mine. She’s now 5’8″ (I’m 5’5″, the hubby is 6’5″) and it is so hard to snuggle anymore and hold her when she, like the young girl she still is, wants to be held and comforted…
my “baby” is 15 and starting her second year of high school. i hear you.
loud and clear.
One of the hardest moments for me was when Jack started going on field trips with camp. The night before his first trip to Disneyland I had terrible nightmares.
He loved it.
I remember the days when he wouldn’t leave my side in public. Now he doesn’t hesitate to wander off in stores and check things out on his own.
I love his confidence and at the same time I worry a bit. This parenting thing is harder than it looks. ;)
As always, let me be your mom foreshadowing and rewrite that sentiment from my life:
Jana wants to go to Seville, Spain, next semester. I think it is a good idea. Push and pull.
Jana grow up. No Jana come back to me.
Since we raise them to be independent we always feel that push pull. It gets easier, and then again it gets a lot harder.
“The wheel is turning and you can’t slow down. You can’t let go and you can’t hold on. You can’t go back and you can’t stand still. If he thunder don’t get you then the lightening will.” – Robert Hunter
last year, after my son turned 13, i started dropping him off at movies with his friends. and i so get that. push and pull. it’s so hard. because i don’t want him to grow up and leave me. yet, i want him to grow up and leave me. it’s hard letting go. one finger at a time.