Two Steps Behind

Sometimes when you're a parent, everything can seem like a blur. Days can seem like endless cycles... Clean the playroom, go to the bathroom, eat your dinner, get ready for school, is it bedtime yet, you need a bath, stop annoying your sibling, don't ask me about getting a pet again, yes we can read a story, yes you can color as soon as you clean the playroom, please only jump off the couch to the mat one person at at time - and stop doing it until the playroom is clean or you'll bust your face and break your toys, oh hey it's bedtime, please be still so I can brush your teeth, get your pajamas on, say five things you're thankful for, pray, tuck in, didn't you just go to the bathroom - why are you up, collapse, sleep, repeat tomorrow.

And that was just the evening.

You go ahead and splash... I'mma sit in the garage and stay dry.

But sometimes parenting affords you the opportunity to just slow down and watch.

This summer we took a lot of outings. We went to our favorite seashore state park, we went on hikes on local trails, we checked out the aquarium, we went to our favorite indoor playground, we visited the Clydesdales.

Those of you with kids know that there comes a point when the reality hits you that your children are no longer completely dependent on you and with this comes a whole range of emotions. Some parents feel freedom at no longer constantly needing to feel strapped to a dependent being. Some parents feel sadness at the loss of the baby days, the snuggles and baby smells and stretchy little baby fingers and squishy baby faces. There's a whole litany of feelings that come along with realizing that your kids are entering "the next phase".

There was a point as I was following my kids ride their bikes one day that it occurred to me that I was taking a lot of pictures this summer of the BACK of my children. Behind them while they rode their bikes, behind them while they balanced across rocks, behind them while they led the way through the woods. From a bench while they climbed play structures and slid down slides. From the shore of the lake while they splashed around in their floaties, ready to get up and pull them in as necessary. The moments in which I needed to direct, to guide, to reign in, to make sure they were immediately at my side are diminishing. My children require the guidelines and rules of whatever activity we are doing, to be reminded to go to the bathroom, provided food for the occasion.

At five and three, I went from needing to be integral to their activities to being two steps behind them at all times. Close enough to intervene, far enough to allow independence.

Swimmies on, Mom's watchful eye 20 yards away...

The feeling that I felt at this: Amazement.

Here are these beings that just a few short years ago required me for everything. And little by little they learned new skills and built on those skills and got stronger and faster and formed opinions and desires and have their own motivations - and now here we are.

I follow them on foot, power walking as they pedal along in front of me. I remind them to stay on the path as they lead the way on beaten paths in forests. I stay close by as they climb rocks, ready to reach out a hand or grab them when they need support.

I am amazed at how they have grown, how they have developed, and how they no longer need me to the same degree to do certain things. And while I long for the day when I no longer hear the words shouted through the house "MOM - I NEED MY BUTT WIPED!!!", I rest in these moments when they straddle between relying on me and relying on themselves.

As they continue to grow, I know that the gap between needing me and not needing me will do the same. That they will learn to properly wipe their own backside, to walk themselves into school, to make their own snacks, to get up on their own without waking me up, to go out with their friends alone, to drive, to go to college, to become their own people with their own lives.

Because yes, I've already made it clear to them that they will not live in my house when they grow up. We've compromised and they can live next door. In their own house. But not here.

Take flight, kiddos...

Here's the thing - as our kids grow, as WE GREW... their parents - OUR parents - were always two steps behind them. Those two steps look differently as they grow. Now I walk behind their bikes and wait on benches at the park. Soon it will be waiting on a bench at the mall while they do their own Christmas shopping and "Meet me back here in 45 minutes". Then it will be reminding them that all they need to do if they're ever in a situation they aren't comfortable in is to pick up the phone and I'll come and get them. Then it will be telling them what finding a job is like, what relationships are like. Relaying my experiences, drying tears, driving to jobs, bringing chicken soup to college dorms (if they live close).

Helping them when they move into their first home, have their weddings, and start families.

As our children learn skills, we too are learning. We are learning what it's like to raise up and let go, all the while providing an appropriate safety net for them to fall into if they need it.

When they need it.

Right behind you guys...

We are learning what it looks like to always be two steps behind.