Hitting a Wall of Time

I feel like I’m running out of time.  All of a sudden, in random moments, it hits me.  I’m fine and then I’m not.  The realization is:  I don’t want my kids to grow up.   Sitting here looking for a cool summer vacation and it feels like I just ran full speed into a wall.  I only have a couple summers left to plan a vacation with both of my boys.  I have to get it right.  I really only have two more chances.  It seems so silly.  Of course I want my kids to grow up and be healthy, happy, successful, good humans.  I want them to grow into their freedom and be on their own one day.  But…I don’t.

In my heart and soul I want to pull them in and keep them here with me forever.  

I know. This is not an option. Just my heart wishing away the inevitable pain of separating with these humans who have changed my life, become my life, , and are about to brutally change it yet again.

When random thoughts go streaming through my mind as I curl up in bed trying to fall asleep at night, I think about them as little guys and remember what it was like to pull their small bodies into mine for a hug and wrap them up in my arms, with smiles and laughter.  I think about their small hands and small voices and how we enjoyed so many little fun things together.  Inevitably, this leads to a feeling of sadness.  An empty void knowing that I will never again experience those simple little treasures of moments.  It is literally painful.  My stomach turns.  My heart hurts.

They are teenage boys.  They come and go.  Their love is constant, just as mine is.  I feel this and I know this.  They are good boys.  I am a lucky mom.  While some must endure the pain of feeling their teens slipping away, wanting nothing to do with them, even the heartbreak of teens being mean and falling in with the wrong crowd, I am so lucky.  Mine are still sweet. They still hug me and tell me they love me. They still put their friends on hold and open their door to me, their world to me. While rare, I got to sit on the couch last night with both of my boys and watch Return of the Jedi for May 4th.  We had dinner together.  They still linger in the kitchen and talk to me about school and friends and tell me stories.  

I know that I am such a lucky mom.  I get to plan summer vacations with my kids.  I do still have them here with me.  While I know I should simply enjoy the time and not let myself feel sad when so many are not this fortunate, I just can’t help this feeling that hits when I run into this wall. 

With two years left of high school for my oldest, there are so many lasts coming.  This is something I struggled with as they grew up.  Realizing after the fact that we had experienced the last of something:  that last time I held them in my arms, the last bottle, the last sippy cup, the last book read at bed time, the last time  my youngest asked me to sing Amazing Grace to him while he fell asleep, the last time I could pick them up…You never know until it just doesn’t happen again.  Right now, I am looking at so many lasts on the horizon of my future and I know they are coming. This feels like an unfair pain burden to bare.  

Just as the lasts of the little boy times, I have gone through the early teen years with my older son and now look back and realize all the adolescent times are over.  The firsts of growing into these years came and went: sports seasons, dances, starting to drive…We are now facing the full on teenage years of 16 – 18 and time seems to be moving exponentially faster.  My 13 year old is entering those early teen years and I am eyes wide open now.  Paying attention. Don’t blink!  Letting him gradually grow in his independence while still having him close.  Realizing how fleeting this time is, just as all the phases before, I look forward to his firsts but know there is no pause button on this clock.

While I’m driving my 16 year old to school for this last month before he will be driving himself next fall, I’m thinking:  oh wow, I may never have him stuck in the car with me alone again.  These are cherished moments.  This is the last sport season he will be texting me to pick him up when he’s finished for the day.  The last couple weeks of slight dependence on me before: poof! I know many parents can’t wait for this moment of their own freedom to return: no more chauffeuring the kid around, but I actually dread it. Just one more last to endure.

For some reason, planning a summer vacation was my wall today.  It reminds me of the fact that I have only two summers left before the one he will be leaving for college.  Two summers left means out of the 17 I really get with him here at home they are almost done, and wow did it go by so much faster than anyone could possibly have prepared me for.  These next two years will be a constant stream of thinking hold on, slow down, just one more, oh no this is the last…I want to get it right. For this summer, I’ll try to know this wall down and remind myself this is not the last one yet.