The Poor Mom Revolution

     Tomorrow is the official day my baby boy turns 11 years old. He’s been by our side for 4014 days and I honestly just can’t believe it. How does this much time pass and simultaneously feel like yesterday he came into our lives. I always surprise myself with the emotions that surround me and the constant need to cry when I even just think about it. It’s the same feeling when he crawled for the first time, walked into his daycare room, went to Kindergarten, scored his first soccer goal… the emotions just take over. It’s actually quite embarrassing. The other day I was out with my husband and I started to cry for no reason, but the idea of him getting old. Every morning, picture memories come up on my phone and that’s all it takes for the waterworks to start.

     I think what’s crazy is that most of us don’t have kids when we’re ready. Now I always wanted kids and dreamed about them constantly, but truly being ready is a different entity altogether. I was relatively younger than the majority of my friends, getting pregnant at 24 and having him at 25. I wanted nothing more and couldn’t be happier, but had no idea what I was doing. We had just gotten married 8 months prior and we’re still practically babies ourselves. I also didn’t know who I was as a person since I was still growing up myself and figuring this whole grown up thing out. That’s where it got tough. Using all my time and energy to keep this little person safe, happy and healthy didn’t leave much time for self discovery. We just learned to exist together as a family, and decided to figure everything else out later on. It was hard, stressful, lonely while also being beautiful and worth every moment I second guessed myself. He made me realize I didn’t know anything about myself and in turn helped me be the best adult I could be for him and me. 

     With your first born, I honestly think you grow up together. When you see them flourishing and living their best lives, there is an overwhelming sense of accomplishment that you both ‘made’ it. I believe that having him allowed me to put everything into perspective. That every single decision and choice that I made from day one affected him. I wanted to be a positive role model. I needed him to know that I had his back always. I wanted him to know he can also follow his heart and do what makes him happy and not simply what he feels obligated to do. There is no better lesson than leading by example. It’s a lot of pressure as a parent. The need and want to be perfect, knowing it’ll never actually happen. It’s just been a crazy 11 years and then some.

     We recently purchased a new car after a lot of back and forth. We decided on a newer, low mileage car in hopes that the kids would be able to drive it, which in all seriousness is 5ish years away. That was enough to send me into a spiral of their getting old, I’m getting old and I miss them as babies. I just don’t know how we have a 4th and 5th grader this year and how they are getting closer and closer to middle/high school. They aren’t even little anymore, as they act like independent mini adults who like having big adult conversations, talking about their future careers, hopes and dreams about their dream house and what they’ll want in their first apartments when they don’t live with us anymore. 

     I just can’t believe they are half way to growing up. Our crazy parenting journey of providing as much knowledge, love and direction will come to an end. How is it that you spend close to 20 years, 2 decades, of your life raising yourself and your kids just to restart and figure out how to live without them? Just a strange feeling. Now I know what you’re thinking. He’s 11, relax, you’re rushing things and it isn’t rational. I’m completely aware. The fun part of having anxiety is the uncontrollable, obsessive and most often irrational thoughts that I can’t control. It lives rent free in my brain. That my kids are growing up, that I probably did something to mess them up, are they prepared for life and the inevitable cruelty they’ll experience and will they continue to be happy and live life for themselves. Parenting is the hardest job you’ll ever love and I wouldn’t trade the crazy, constant second guessing for anything.