My oldest baby boy moved into his own place this month.
I miss him so terribly. Everyday. Every night I resist the urge to call and be sure he is home safely. I don't know what he has eaten or if he is safe. I don't know what clothes he is wearing in the event he goes missing. I feel lost. This boy has been homeschooled since the third grade. He is my buddy, we are alike in so many ways. I miss his him, did I mention I miss him? He has been with me every step of my adult life. No one seems to notice how hard this is on me.
I'm so proud of him. Living at home, while he worked and went to school was an option but it wasn't right for him. I joke that he came out of the womb wanting to work. He lives to be busy, to work, to be independent and successful. He is always determined to do things his way, on his terms, no regrets, no excuses - well some excuses ;) (wonder where he gets that headstrong bullhead mom?)
These last couple years have been our most difficult. As I tried to reign him in and guide him, he resisted and wanted to show me once again, he can do it himself. So determined was he when he was 4 and 5 to pour his own milk that after a couple of unfortunate spills I purchased a small pitcher he could manage so he could do it himself. Everything about his life was crafted in the same way. Him showing me what he wanted to do and me finding ways to let him find success in it.
My challenge was to give him the tools, the resources, the confidence and opportunity to do everything on his own. Then, I had to get out of the way. He made mistakes but so what? I tried to teach him that mistakes are just experiences and we learn from them, not to get too wound up in them or drag them around with you.
He was homeschooled from the 3rd grade and graduated from our home school. I am so proud that I raised a son with determination and drive. But secretly I am wondering what it would be like if I had raised a slacker, one who wanted to be home and have momma do everything? Okay, that would be attractive for about 5 minutes.
Our mission in our home school is to guide the children, through faith, love, opportunity and discipline to discover the person our Father in heaven created them to be. Period. Every door has been available to him, to all our children.
He is doing what I always prayed he would. He is doing exactly what I have spent 20 years raising him to do. Yet, here I sit again crying in my coffee because he isn't here.
I dropped him off at Kindergarten and cried in the parking lot for nearly an hour. The entire day the tears would just overwhelm me. I was missing him smile. I was missing him learn. I was missing it the show. I fought it until we decided to homeschool. Then, I didn't miss a thing. My three musketeers are a dynamic duo. My party of five, is a party of four. I don't even need a minivan anymore.
Hate me for saying this, won't be the first time. I loved every part. I loved when they were little. I loved rocking them at 3 am. I loved nursing, and diapers, and toddler tantrums. I loved every minute. Homeschooling is my greatest joy and it hasn't been hard. It is a labor of love. I am working to find a new rhythm but I adore it. I had a front row seat for the greatest show on earth. I sit in the arena now, it's quiet. The circus has moved to the next town and I just want it to start over.
Yes, the other two shows are still playing. I love every moment of theirs too. But every mother knows you love each child with all the love you have. One doesn't replace another. When their shows wrap I suspect it will be even worse.
I guess this concludes the crying for the morning.