I absolutely adore the ages of my kids right now! Flashback to a few years ago when my sister got hitched, and our entire clan jetted off to British Columbia for the celebration. My kiddos were still in the little ones stage, while my cousins were already in their tweens and teens, off zip-lining and hiking while we were still negotiating nap times and snack schedules. Did I feel a twinge of envy? Oh, you bet!
Now that my children are 7 and 11, life has become a lot easier. Gone are the days of lugging around strollers and diaper bags. When we pass parents pushing strollers, my partner and I share knowing looks, silently thanking the universe that we’re past that phase.
Weekends have transformed as well. In the past, Sunday nights were greeted with my husband’s “T.G.I.M!” as we collapsed from exhaustion. Now, weekends are filled with enjoyable family activities. We can sip our coffee leisurely in the mornings while the kids happily entertain themselves. Freedom comes in delightful little doses, and the timing couldn’t be better.
But here’s the twist: with freedom comes a bit of heartache.
My son strides off to school with his phone in his pocket, and after classes, as long as he keeps us in the loop, he’s off biking around town with friends. They zoom from place to place, probably indulging in treats I’d typically say no to.
On some weekend mornings, he even takes his sister to the diner for breakfast. Just seeing them walk out the door together brings a mix of pride and sadness. I’m thrilled they take this adventure seriously, but as they stroll away, my heart feels both buoyant and heavy.
That short walk to the diner today might one day become a drive to a trendy restaurant in another city, a train ride to the big town, or even a flight to college. I sit back, relishing the peace and quiet, but I can’t help but ponder a future when they may not come home at all. They’ll establish their own lives, and soon, I might be just a distant thought.
Soon, my son will head off to sleepaway camp for the first time, and I can already feel my heartstrings tugging. Perhaps one day my daughter will join him, and my partner and I will find ourselves enjoying summer as a couple once again. It’ll be a mix of joy and melancholy, as we’ll realize we’ve raised two independent kids capable of navigating life without us. We’ll be proud, yet a little lost.
Freedom will be ours again—movies, late dinners, leisurely strolls. I’ll catch up with friends, but then I’ll come home to a house that feels eerily quiet.
All these thoughts swirl in my head as I watch them walk toward the diner. I remind myself to enjoy this hour alone, cherishing the moment before thinking about the future when the house might feel too empty.
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Summary:
This article reflects on the bittersweet joys of watching children grow. While the author cherishes the newfound freedom that comes with having older kids, there’s an underlying sadness as they begin to assert their independence. The emotional rollercoaster of parenting is beautifully depicted, highlighting both the pride of raising strong children and the inevitable feelings of loss that come with their growing autonomy.
