As the new school year approaches, I find myself standing in the school supply aisle, feeling overwhelmed and emotional. I’m the parent who is buying shoes two sizes too big because, somehow, my child has grown overnight. Trying to hide my tears from the young sales associate, I can’t help but feel a mix of pride and nostalgia. I’m the one who can’t keep the camera steady as my little one struts down the aisle to become a flower girl, embodying bravery I never anticipated. These are what I call “mommy tears”—those heartfelt tears that come from a place of unique, profound love and admiration. They are not tears of frustration or fatigue (though I’ve had my fair share of those); instead, they spring from the overwhelming emotions of motherhood—pride, gratitude, fear, excitement, and love.
At first, I thought I was the only one who felt this way, that no other moms could possibly tear up over the little things. But I quickly realized I was mistaken. I’ve shared knowing glances with other mothers at dance recitals and daycare drop-offs, letting them know they’re not alone. Fortunately, my friends have also admitted to shedding a tear or two in similar moments.
So, why the tears as school begins?
I cry because my children are another year older. No matter how prepared I think I am, I still end up sobbing by the door or ugly crying in the car on the way to work.
I cry when my daughter innocently asks if Santa is real, and I know I must tell her the truth. These big moments come without warning, leaving me to navigate them on the fly while holding my breath. I find myself stress-eating in the kitchen later, realizing my tears over Santa stem from her growing up faster than I can handle.
I cry because it’s time for his first haircut. Those sweet baby curls are my favorite. They smell like no-tears shampoo, and they create the perfect bed-head in the mornings. I know that with each little snip, I’m losing a piece of that babyhood, revealing a little boy who is growing up too quickly.
I cry when we’re at a live performance of Sesame Street, watching how much joy Elmo brings to my kids. Is it a parenting truth that our children’s happiness can evoke more tears from us than from them? I certainly wasn’t expecting to tear up watching puppets, but how could I not when their delight is so pure?
I cry when my daughter prepares for her upcoming recital. We’ll discuss costumes and rehearsals for weeks, and on the big day, as she steps onto that stage, I know I’ll be overwhelmed with pride, relief, and disbelief at how grown-up she seems.
I cry when I see older kids performing. They’re more experienced and polished, and as I watch them, I can’t help but imagine my own children up there one day, singing solos and dancing with confidence. The thought of them not being little anymore hits me hard.
That’s the reason I find myself in tears.
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In summary, the tears I shed over the start of a new school year are a natural expression of the bittersweet journey of motherhood. It’s a reminder that as our children grow, so do our emotions, and it’s perfectly okay to embrace those feelings.
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