Released

12744457_10207691452817681_1869913176557796819_nThese are my daughters. They are 12 and 10, more young women now than little girls. They are far and away the best thing I’ve ever done.

Being their mom is a dream job. It hasn’t always been an easy one (those early years, especially the newborn and toddler phase, nearly took me down), and I know I can’t coast forever (teenager-dom looms), but right now it feels like we’re in a sweet spot.

They are interesting and interested. They are smart and beautiful and confident and adjusted, and it makes me proud to know I had something to do with that.

They like to hang out with me and listen to music — what I love as well as what they’re finding and appreciating on their own now. They like to share books and talk about them. They’re hilarious and clever. They tell me how they feel and what’s happening in their lives. They hug and kiss me at random times, just because they feel like it, and they let me do that too. The younger one, Sara, still climbs into my bed to snuggle every morning.

And even when Kate, the older one, acts like the brooding preteen she is, I don’t get that bothered. I remember it well, and she deserves her time wallowing in it too. (It’s kind of beautiful to watch.)

As aware as I am of this being a time of suspended sweetness, it’s also clear that a shift is happening — not for them, but for me.

My role is changing. They don’t need me as much as they used to. We are not in literal physical contact all day, and we truthfully once were, a decade ago. Now, they spend more time away from me than with me. They can do a lot of things for themselves (almost everything, really) that I used to have to do for them.

There is some sadness in this, yes, but it’s that bittersweet kind that actually feels really good.

I’m starting to find swaths of time and space for myself again. Not just stolen hours.

And the poise I see in the two of them feels like a thank-you from the universe: You did a good job. You are released. 

I realize I’m not, not really — not by a long shot. They are only halfway through the time it takes to become an adult. Middle school, high school, and college await. And even after they are grown up, they will be mine and I will be theirs.

But there’s an easefulness in our relationship right now that I appreciate and savor. And I feel things starting to open in a new way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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