Reflection on time going to fast....The boys growing up feels like the longest most bittersweet breakup....
This is the last Monday of the school year. Four more sleeps and we are done for almost 60 days. If I am being honest, that makes me incredibly happy. I have always been the mom who loves summer. I love having my boys home. I love the slower mornings, the late nights, the laziness that somehow only exists during summer break. I love the moments that are not scheduled, the afternoons that disappear into backyard games, movie marathons, and conversations that happen when nobody is rushing out the door. More than anything, I love soaking in the time with them.
But this summer feels different. This is the summer before high school. Somehow, the boys who once fit in my arms are only a few months away from walking through the doors of high school, and I find myself sitting in a place between excitement and grief. I am excited because I cannot wait to see who they become. I cannot wait to watch them discover what they love, what drives them, and who they are meant to be. At the same time, there is a sadness that quietly sits beside that excitement.
As a solo parent, looking back brings up so many emotions. When the boys were little, parenting was not something I was soaking in and fully enjoying. The truth is, I was surviving it. My depression was heavy, and my world felt overwhelming. I spent years believing that what my boys needed most was for me to find someone who could step in and help me be everything I thought a family was supposed to be. I was convinced they needed a father figure more than they needed me. It has taken me years to realize how wrong I was. The biggest lesson of the last year and a half has been understanding that they only needed me, and maybe even more importantly, I only needed them.
After my divorce, I found myself in relationships I never should have been in. Looking back now, I know I was not healed and I was not ready. I was searching for something outside of myself because I did not yet understand that we were already enough. Those relationships were not fair to me, they were not fair to my boys, and they were not fair to the people involved. Growth often comes from looking honestly at the mistakes we have made and choosing to learn from them.
Tomorrow is their junior high graduation. Just typing those words makes my eyes sting. I want time to slow down. I want one more year of middle school. One more year of hearing them argue over whose turn it is to unload the dishes. One more year of being the center of their world before friends, jobs, cars, dances, and dating take over. High school feels so grown up. In the next four years they will learn to drive, attend dances, probably go on first dates, and start making decisions about careers, college, and the adults they want to become. They will begin building lives that stretch beyond me, and maybe that is what is hardest for a mother. Not that they are growing up, but that they are supposed to.
I think about my own high school years. I remember having dreams and plans. I remember friendships that felt like they would last forever. Somewhere along the way, I stopped believing in those dreams. I decided a boyfriend who was far too old for me was a better investment than my future, and I walked away from opportunities I should have chased. Maybe that is why I worry sometimes. I want my boys to know their worth. I want them to chase their dreams. I want them to know that the people who deserve a place in their lives will never require them to shrink themselves to fit.
This weekend reminded me why I need to stop worrying so much about tomorrow and focus on today. Our plans changed, and instead of doing what we originally intended, we went to a festival in town. We spent time together. We watched Matrix movies. We stood in the backyard playing cornhole. At one point, one of the boys laughed and told me it felt like cheating because he wins all the time since I cannot see. Without missing a beat, I told him he could let me win sometimes, just like I let them win all those games of tic tac toe when they were little. We both laughed, and for a moment everything stood still.
Those are the moments I find myself holding onto lately. Not the milestones. Not the graduations. Not the countdowns to high school. The ordinary moments. The laughter from the backyard. The movie nights. The inside jokes. The moments when I look across the room and realize that these boys, who changed every part of my life, are becoming incredible young men.
Four more sleeps until summer. Four more sleeps until another chapter closes. While every part of me wants time to slow down, I know that someday I will look back on this season and realize these were the days I was trying so desperately to hold onto. So for now, I will soak up every backyard game, every movie night, every conversation, and every laugh. Because these boys may be growing up, but they will always be my babies.
