My daughter is like me in all of the ways I had hoped she would be: she is sassy, quick-witted, determined, and headstrong. She can articulate herself in ways so mature for her age that sometimes I can’t help but laugh, and she rarely takes no for an answer. As her mother, these traits can be exhausting, but I know they will take her far in the world, just like they have for me. She tells everyone that when she grows up, she wants to be “just a mom and a lawyer, because that’s what girls do,” and while that answer will likely change one hundred times by the time she graduates high school, I love that at only five years old, she already firmly believes that she can and will do whatever she wants.
It’s hard to believe that my daughter has grown into such a little spitfire in such a short amount of time, because it seems like only yesterday that I brought her home from the hospital. There was a time not-so-long-ago where she depended on me for everything, and didn’t insist on trying to do everything by herself. I remember all of those sleepless nights and long days where I pined for a time in the future when she would need me less. I wondered how nice it would be when my daughter could finally feed herself, go to the bathroom by herself, and entertain herself for longer than five seconds. It seemed one million years away. I used to keep track of every little milestone — when she started crawling, when she started solid foods, when she said her first word — but eventually, those milestones became fewer and farther between as she aged from newborn to baby, from baby to toddler, and from toddler to self-declared big kid. But this past summer, I became crushed by the reality that those days of independence I used to wish for are here, and suddenly, I don’t want them anymore. Now I am facing a whole new realm of milestones that were not on the forefront of my mind when she was born.
My daughter’s once-beloved stuffy, “Bon Bon,” is crammed at the bottom of a toy chest, no longer needed every second of the day.
In April, she became a big sister to her little stepbrother, and next year, she’ll gain two new baby sisters.
At some point this year, she figured out how to put on a shirt by herself, and almost doesn’t need my help to get dressed anymore.
Also at some point this year, I’ll stop regularly carrying her places because she can (and will insist on) walking herself.
This past month, she started kindergarten.
She has already mastered her ABC’s, how to spell and write her name, how to count to one hundred, and not to mention a whole entire second language, all in what seems to be the blink of an eye.
Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, maybe it’s the near-constant feeling of missing her since I only see her half the time, or maybe it’s a combination of all of the big life changes recently, but it’s been hitting me extra hard lately that my baby girl isn’t really a baby anymore. I scroll through her old photos after bedtime and just cry, wishing I had savored those moments more. I would do anything to relive one of those days and take it all in one more time!
But at the same time, getting to watch kids grow up is a beautiful blessing in and of itself. The milestones might not be as tangible as “first words” or “first steps,” but I feel the same sense of pride when she figures out how to buckle her seatbelt by herself, or helps one of her siblings with something, or asks if she can help set the table because she just wants to help. And there are still glimpses of the little girl that once was. I see it when she begs for one more bed time story, or rushes to hold my hand as we’re walking, or falls asleep in the car. Yes, my baby is growing up, but she’ll always need me the same way I still need my mom. It will look different, but each phase of parenting will bring new highs and lows that we both will learn and grow so much from.
The older I get, the more I appreciate that part of parenting is learning to let go. You learn to let go of your baby as they gain their independence. You learn to let go of your own expectations for your child as they grow into exactly who they’re meant to be. You learn to let go of the myth that you need to be the “perfect” mom, when you already are the best mom for your child.
If you can master this art of letting go while also supporting, loving, and encouraging your child, one day, you will let go… and your child will come back to you. Over and over and over again, your child will come back to you for advice, comfort, and love, the same way that I find myself going back to my mom, over and over again (to the point where I’m sure some days, she’s sick of me!).
And those milestones you felt you weren’t prepared for just may end up being the best ones yet.
Step by Step Parenting 