Mom Crazy
My little baby started her first day of preschool today. Which means that I, of course, cried. I can honestly say that I was not a crier before I became a mother. I 100 percent, totally blame motherhood for this curse.
I don’t cry all the time but I definitely cry more now and it’s always over my daughter growing up. She may have left for her first day of preschool, but I swear when she turned around to say goodbye I saw her leaving for college. I can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness when I see my baby growing up. This does happen to other moms right?
I know it happens in reverse. When children are older, the parents look at them and see the child inside. That feels a little more normal but maybe it’s just another version of this affliction.
Being a parent means loving someone more than life itself. As much as you understand that they are going to grow up, it’s hard to watch. I have to make a conscious effort to enjoy the milestones and not constantly be thinking about how each of these steps is just one more step out the door for my little girl. It makes me feel kind of crazy. My husband does not seem to be afflicted with this disease. Each time she reaches a new stage in her development, he is excited for her. Her first word, her first step. He is excited, a normal response.
Meanwhile, I am bawling. That’s what I call Mom Crazy. I don’t feel it all the time and I am sure that now that I have a few mornings a week to myself, I’ll get over it. But this morning, it happened again.
I feel like I finally understand my mother. Which is kind of neat considering that today is her birthday.
So, Happy Birthday Mom. I get it now.
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