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The era of babyhood has come to a close for my family, and the feeling is a mix of nostalgia and growth.
By Jessica Landon
Dec. 25, 2023
As I drove past a mother maneuvering her double stroller along the road, I couldn’t help but reminisce about the days when I was in her shoes. The baby peacefully napped while her energetic toddler twisted around in the seat. The young mom, clad in workout gear with her hair in a ponytail, paused to retrieve a sippy cup from the basket below. With a satisfied grin, the little one settled back in, enjoying the journey as her mom continued, moving toward an unseen destination, relishing the fresh air and exercise.
My heart swelled with fond memories of those days, both distant and just yesterday, when stepping outside felt like a monumental achievement. I recall the emotional rollercoaster of parenting, from the tears shed when separating from my kids to the days spent anxiously watching over them at nursery school. I embraced every moment, relishing the joys and challenges of motherhood, and mourned the passage of time as my babies transformed before my eyes.
I adored being that mom. I loved her fiercely. The bond I shared with my children was overwhelming, and I willingly surrendered myself to the delightful chaos of caring for such fragile beings. While there were undoubtedly stressful moments, most days were filled with laughter and support from a small circle of friends who made the journey worthwhile.
However, things have changed. I’ve aged, and my children are no longer infants; they are now 7, 10, and nearly 13 years old. The leisurely strolls are a thing of the past, replaced by the need for speed. The days of sippy cups have transitioned to sports bottles, and my life has shifted into a fast-paced routine. I find myself driving more, adapting to the demands of a busy family life. It’s a whirlwind, but I embrace it wholeheartedly.
I relish the energy and the evolving priorities; I feel like I’ve rediscovered a part of myself. My children are becoming individuals who can articulate their thoughts and feelings—complex, interesting, and capable. They are smart, strong, and kind, growing into young people I admire and cherish.
Yet, like many, I find myself sentimental about the past. Those were innocent times, filled with laughter over spilled coffee and tears from sleepless nights. There were moments of joy dancing to Laurie Berkner and playdates with friends that revolved around strollers packed with snacks. My kids were at the center of my universe, and I was at the heart of theirs.
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In summary, while I miss the simpler days of motherhood, I also appreciate the growth and changes that come with time. Parenting evolves, and so do we.