Dear Motherhood

Usually, January is a let down. The coldest month of the year in certain places, dark and miserable days, the festive season is over with all its merriment. I do not know many people that actually enjoy this month. I do!

It is the month, that 17 years ago, I became a mother. It is by far one of my favorite months. It is the month, that one of my most beloved human beings was born. He brought me, immense joy at becoming a mother. But much more then that, he is just fun to be around. He makes me laugh, he makes me think, he reminds me of what is great about this world. 

Being his mother has been easy and joyous. I have not ever felt the need to send him away or to run away. I have heard of various challenges to being a mother, with behavioral issues and tantrums in toddlers and teens. We have not faced it with our son, on either end. We have been blessed to have "the perfect baby", soon to be full fledged adult. That makes what comes next, totally heart wrenching. The letting go. 

Before motherhood, we all believe that we have fallen in love. More then once in some cases. We have no clue, the love that baby will bring into our life. The love we feel for our children is indescribable. I have yet to find the words to put it down on paper.

The first 3 years of a child's life is all about mom. Mom is everything for the first few months, she has the source of sustenance. As time goes by, mom becomes the teacher. The basics are covered, walking, talking, independence, sharing, becoming a separate entity. 

My life became bigger and better with this phenomenal boy in it. Nothing I did in my life before or since, has compared to being his mother. 

I have watched him grow to become a source of inspiration for me. How he maneuvers in life, how he builds relationships, how he builds his own success, how he has strong beliefs and values, how he knows who he is and where he belongs in the world. He has made me a wiser and stronger human, by knowing him.

Motherhood for me has been a mad race for 17 years. I knew it would, of course, be life altering. Yet, what I did not realize, is that hands-on mothering is fleeting. Just a moment in time. That in motherhood years, time speeds up, the first couple of years seem endless, and then the years run us by. 

From teaching him how to walk, to watching him walk out the door, was a blink. Time has stood still and yet ran away. Years have passed by with the speed of light. Moments have lingered and then evaporated into space. His childhood, while I was fully invested in it, disappeared on me, as if overnight. 

The little boy with a gap in his teeth, now carries a goatee with confidence. The young child that held my hand all the time, has now let go. The older child that needed my support, has now reminded me how well he stands alone. The young man that turns to me for advise, is thankfully, well and still there.

Mothering, I have understood, is condensed into a sprint. A heaving mad dash to the finish line. A rush to raise the best child that you can. A hysterical race, to ensure that child at 18 is capable of standing alone to face a wild wide world. I have understood it, I have yet to accept it.

What happens to mothers, when their mothering is not needed on a daily basis? Where do the mothering skills go, when they are put up for retirement? How do mother,s find a new purpose in life when they have done their job? Who do mothers, become when their children fly the coop? I have a long way to go, before I find answers to these questions, with my little one at home.

Our life is now full of anticipation, discussion, thought, advise, wonder, for the future of our young man. What the coming journey will bring his way. How to set him up for the road ahead with a good set of tools. We can only pray we did our job well.

Here is what I have learned: To be a mom is to live on the edge. Knowing in your heart that what you are doing everyday is monumental to that child. That motherhood makes you understand what it means to have your heart walking outside your body forever. That you have a tiny window of opportunity to get it right. That 18 years are but nano seconds in mothering time, to make the best of it while they live under your roof. That one day very soon, I will volunteerly take my son's hand and set him up to live his own life, with my heart shattering into tiny pieces. That my role has been completed and my feat accomplished. Dedicated to all mothers I know and love.