Babies Do Grow Up

Last night another milestone was crossed in my life as a mom--I registered my daughter at the high school she will attend this Fall. As I sat in the room with the other parents of the Class of 2010, half-heartedly listening to the information about credits and lockers and extracurricular sports, I couldn't keep my mind from playing a slo-mo recap of the developmental milestones that have occurred over the past 14 years. As a lump in my throat formed, I realized, again, my "baby" will be home for only four more, lightning-fast years and then she will embark on her own independent life adventure at college, perhaps never again to return for any extended length of time to our cozy nest.

When I found out I was pregnant I began to keep a journal, something I had not done since I was a pre-teen. As a new mother, my journal writing was an expression of the unbelievable and overwhelming love I felt for my developing 8 lb. 2 oz. baby girl. In journaling for my daughter I shared my love for her, my adjustment to being a mom and the challenges I experienced juggling marriage, graduate school and stepmotherhood at the same time. I shared with her my dreams for her as a grown woman. I recorded the experience of her birth while she lay in the bassinet next to my hospital bed. I chronicled the typical "firsts": her first tooth, her first haircut, her first taste of ice cream. I described our adventures in traveling to Europe and the Carribbean beginning when she was a few months old and our move from California to Texas when she was 3. I confided my worries and doubts as a mom, and explained to her my personal hopes and dreams, both as a parent and as a woman. By the time she began middle school, the journal grew to 5 volumes. The journal is something I hope she will turn to when she is a young mother and as she reads the pages she will hear my voice reminding her of the experiences we shared, and provide her with comfort and support.

When I began the journal, my daughter's foray into the world of high school seemed light years away. Back in 1991 I felt I would be sleep-deprived, covered in baby goo, leaking breastmilk and changing diapers for the rest of my life. So last night as I saw my daughter leaping ever closer to adulthood, I experienced an initial flutter of sadness and loss. Oh, to have one more night of rocking her in my arms, gently singing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" as she cooed and stroked my face with her chubby hands!

Isn't it always the case, just like the Joni Mitchell song, that you don't realize that some event is the LAST time you will ever experience it again, until you reflect back and register it's absence? I wish there was a little flag that would magically appear and wave to alert me:

"Attention, Kim! This is the last time your daughter will shout with glee: 'Mommy, look what I made you in school today!' Take Notice!"

Imagine all the little flags, flapping and waving madly over our heads, drawing our distracted attention to the things that are truly important! As I reflect on my feelings today, that flutter of loss has turned into a tentative sense of hopefulness and pride. The next few years will be an incredible adventure for my nearly grown baby--she will experience events and engage in interactions with people outside of the safety of the "play dates" I carefully arranged when she was small. My husband and I will stand back at a safe distance and allow her to spread her wings a bit over the next few years, trusting that she has taken to her heart the values of self-respect, compassion and curiosity of the world we have taught her.

As a life coach I help my clients "reframe" situations and view setbacks, obstacles or disappointments as learning opportunities. Today I "reframed" my situation and, in the process, released the sense of loss I was experiencing.

I step through this new door with tentative expectation. I am ready to experience what the next four years hold for me and ask:

How will my role as mother evolve over the next four years?
Where will this new path lead me?
What are my opportunities for self-growth as my daughter matures?
What opportunities will be present in my marriage as our last child leaves the nest?

I welcome and look with anticipation toward my daughter's next milestones. I will watch with pride and love as she matures into a strong, vibrant and confident young woman of the world. I will raise my own flag of conscious awareness over the next four years and celebrate the "firsts" and "lasts" of my Class of 2010 baby!

Thought for the Day: What event has occurred in your life that you are having difficulty "reframing"? How can you approach this event from the perspective of "opportunity" rather than "loss?" What can you do this week to "raise the flag" of consciousness and not allow something important to slip away without awareness?

Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or hatch. --e.b. white