By: Emma Lawson
As my eldest child approached his second birthday, our family dynamic shifted dramatically with the arrival of his younger sister. For nearly two years, it felt like it was just the two of us against the world. Rarely did we have a babysitter, and I seldom left his side. He insists he remembers those moments, claiming that the day his sister was born marked the end of our exclusive bond. When his brother arrived a year later, he began asking me when we could return to our cherished “just us” time.
My mother once shared a poignant insight: bringing a new sibling into the home is akin to introducing a new partner into a relationship. Initially, I dismissed this notion as exaggerated. However, I’ve come to realize that my son was indeed feeling this way.
One summer day stands out vividly in my memory. I was nursing his sister while pregnant with another child, and my son stood at the window, his small frame silhouetted against the light. He slowly turned to me, his expression solemn, and I felt a pang in my heart. I longed to scoop him into my arms, but I waited until his sister was done feeding.
Once I set her down, we cuddled in our big leather recliner, reading a board book as sunlight flooded the room. I noticed him squinting but he didn’t want to move. “Just us, Mama.” He seemed to know that if we got up, that precious moment might slip away.
In those early days, our “just us” time was sacred. As more siblings joined the mix, those moments became fewer and farther between. Life became chaotic, and I often found it hard to carve out time for just the two of us. When you can barely find a moment alone to use the bathroom, prioritizing one-on-one time feels nearly impossible.
Occasionally, we managed to sneak in a little time together, but many evenings found me exhausted and in pajamas by 4 p.m., ready to settle down for the night after dinner and bedtime routines. Over the years, my son would occasionally express how much he enjoyed our time alone together. If it had been a while, he’d drop hints that it was time to reconnect.
“I know,” I’d tell him, “I love it too, Liam.” I wanted him to understand that I cherished those moments as much as he did.
Now that he’s older, it’s easier for me to create “just us” moments since my children are less dependent on me. However, it seems to be him who struggles to find the time. At 13, he’s immersed in his own world of friends and activities, which, frankly, he should be. Ironically, I’m the one yearning for those moments we used to share. I often find myself watching him as he heads off to pursue his latest adventure, trying to suppress a frown while the sun blinds me.
This boy, who once sought my company and affection, now sidesteps my hugs and kisses. Yet, when he does carve out time for us—when nothing else seems more exciting than hanging out with his old mom—those moments are pure gold. He may act indifferent, but he still manages to say, “Mom, I really like it when it’s just us.” And I respond with a heartfelt, “Yes, me too, just us.”
He won’t truly grasp the value of these moments until he experiences parenthood himself and faces the bittersweet reality of watching his own children grow independent. It’s a lesson that imparts the significance of “just us” time—a precious gift that every parent treasures.
For more insights on parenting and family dynamics, check out this blog post. If you’re considering family planning options, you might find useful resources and products like the At Home Intracervical Insemination Syringe Kit from a reputable online retailer. For more information on pregnancy and home insemination, visit Women’s Health.
In summary, as my son grows more independent, I find myself longing for those moments of connection we once had. The dynamics of our relationship have shifted, but the importance of “just us” time remains a cherished aspect of our bond.