The Passage of Time

 

It’s eventually the lament of all mothers – my baby is growing up.

Mothers feel it at every stage – first tooth, first steps, first day of school, braces and so on. So many milestones in our children’s lives that prompt us to immerse ourselves in memories even while we celebrate every new stage.

This week, I’ll once more reminisce about my baby girl, and step with fear and trembling (and pride too) into the unknown territory of the teenage years. In the last year, she’s grown taller than me, started experimenting with make-up, and learned to tame her mass of curly hair. She’s managing middle school and even walked dogs for money over the summer. I can’t believe how grown she acts sometimes, but we still glimpse enough of the kid in her to smile at occasionally.

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I, myself, am not ready for what I’m sure is coming, and I think that’s the source of my fear. Will I know how to assist and guide her through school troubles, boy troubles, and myriad new situations? Will she still talk to me? Will she listen, even a little bit?

Either way, I’ll wake her with a Happy Birthday and watch as she fixes her hair and puts on make-up, going off to school looking like the cool teenager she is now. Because time keeps moving forward, even when I long for the simpler days of her childhood.

If y’all have any advice for me, I’d love to hear it! Or tell me a favorite memory of time with your parents during your teenage years. 

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