An acquaintance recently remarked that I’ve made my 2-year-old the “focal point of my life.” It wasn’t meant to be malicious; this person doesn’t know me or my family well. However, comments like that irritate me to no end.
Let’s be clear: parents of young children are juggling numerous responsibilities and doing their utmost to meet everyone’s needs, including their own. The last thing they need is added guilt or judgment. At this moment, my 2-year-old son is undeniably the focal point of my world — and that’s perfectly okay.
I understand that this phase won’t last forever. I’ve navigated these early years before with my older son, who is now 8. He’s weaned, potty-trained, sleeps soundly through the night, and has perfected the art of eye-rolling — truly impressive.
But my youngest, who still seeks me out first thing in the morning and finds solace in my lap when he’s upset, absolutely deserves to be my everything right now. And it should be that way.
While I recognize my identity extends beyond motherhood, and I actively encourage my children to embrace their independence, I also haven’t lost sight of my responsibilities to family, friends, and the larger world. Yet, during this stage where my son still relies on me for nearly everything, I’m prioritizing him over other aspects of my life.
I may not be with him every moment, but even when he’s in someone else’s care, my mind is often on him. I hope that his caregivers ensure his safety and understand his toddler expressions well enough to comfort him when he’s upset. My level of concern for him is markedly different from that of my older son, as he still needs me in a more instinctual, visceral manner. There’s an invisible connection between us that feels unbreakable for now.
For the time being, my choices revolve around his needs, much like many parents of young children. For me, this translates to selecting work that allows for more family time, even if it means extra financial constraints. It also involves opting for simplicity over extravagance, enduring sleepless nights, and sacrificing date nights and family gatherings to maintain bedtime routines.
This intense period of raising young children is just that — a phase. A fleeting moment in the grand scheme of life. It’s about giving selflessly, sometimes to the point of exhaustion. I strive to carve out time for myself and my relationships amidst the chaos. I realize I can’t satisfy everyone, which means tuning out the naysayers, accepting help, and cherishing the many blessings in my life while sometimes wishing for a break from the relentless nature of my days.
In just a couple of months, my little guy will turn 3. I can already sense the transition into a new phase of motherhood, where I’ll no longer just be a mother of toddlers but rather a mother to growing children. This impending season will bring newfound freedom, but it will also tug at my heartstrings.
I’ll miss the soft chubbiness of his little hands, the days when my kisses could magically erase his bumps and bruises, and the mornings when he clung to me a bit longer, his tiny feet digging into my side.
Though a mother’s bond with her children never fully fades, it does evolve over time. Priorities shift, and the universe expands. I can already feel my son beginning to pull away from me, albeit slowly and with some awkward moments. But it’s a natural part of growing up. I hope that I’m equipping him with the confidence and grace he needs to spread his wings one day.
As he takes flight, I trust he’ll carry a piece of me in his heart.
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