One of the delightful surprises of parenting is the unique soundtrack that fills a waking home—the soft click of the alarm clock, upbeat tunes echoing from down the hall, and the playful chaos of pets racing up the stairs. It’s the gentle rustle of sheets as little feet shuffle towards the bathroom and the familiar call, “I’m awake, Mom.” Regardless of the hurdles that might come my way throughout the day, this morning symphony lingers in my heart.
It was a Tuesday following a long weekend. The night before, the kids had taken baths, refreshed their bedding, and prepped their backpacks, all to ensure a smoother morning. I felt a sense of peace as the day began.
My youngest, Lily, appeared with the hood of her beloved footie pajamas pulled over her head, her turquoise ears flopping as she nestled into my chest, whispering, “Good morning, Mom.” I gave her back a gentle rub through the soft fleece and told her how much I loved her. The older ones, Chloe and Mia, took a bit longer to emerge, their preteen expressions caught between grumpiness and sleepiness, but they eventually joined in, mostly cheerful.
We prepared our lunches in a fun relay style before Briar settled down with a book and Mia grabbed her iPad, while Lily filled her water bottle and took off her shoes. I couldn’t help but admire her determination; despite being the youngest and occasionally playing the baby card, she efficiently got ready. She was always the first to head out the door, and any inquiries about whether she had completed her tasks were met with a confident “Yes.”
This year marked a pivotal realization for me—I couldn’t save them from every situation. Bringing forgotten items didn’t lead to their independence. While I can’t claim to enjoy saying, “Hopefully next week you’ll remember,” I’ve learned to say it. Their forgetfulness has decreased, so I’ll call that a win.
The focus on responsibility has opened up new dialogues; my daughters now share more about their school experiences, from talks about staying drug-free to practicing lockdown drills. Mia explained the cubby situation, saying, “We don’t have enough for everyone, so I have to share. But I get there first, which is good, even though it’s hard to breathe if someone pushes me. If there’s a shooter, I won’t be in front.”
I strive to keep my emotions in check during these conversations, not wanting to instill more fear in them than necessary. I can’t be present in their classrooms, hallways, or gyms to influence their responses. “Oh,” I said, “I’m glad you’re aware of the plan.” Lily chimed in, “In my classroom, we have our hiding spots. We know not to make a sound, which is tough because if I need to cough or blow my nose, it’s hard not to. But I promise I won’t.” I nodded and smiled, these discussions sobering me and shaping my responses to their requests for staying home.
With ten minutes left before we had to leave, Lily said, “I wish I could play hooky.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
She shrugged, “I don’t know. I just would.” Her blue eyes searched mine, looking for any hint that I might change my mind.
“Not today. It’s a school day, and we’ll have time off in April to visit Grandma. You need to go learn and see your friends. We can cuddle tonight, and you can tell me about your day. I can drive you if you’d like.”
She grinned, “No, I prefer the bus.”
“I like you,” I replied.
She laughed and dashed across the icy ground towards the approaching bus. My heart skipped a beat. I didn’t call out “I love you” because she draws a line between her mother’s affection and how she’s perceived by her peers. I waited in the car, tears welling up, as I watched her wipe the condensation from the window.
She caught my gaze and mouthed, “I love you.” I echoed it back, my voice trembling. As I sat alone, watching the bus pull away, I took a deep breath, reflecting on our morning’s sounds and her wish to stay home, questioning if I was making the right choice.
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In summary, parenting is a delicate balance of nurturing, guiding, and allowing independence. Each day brings its own set of challenges and joys, shaping our children and ourselves in ways we never anticipated.
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