Spring Break 2019 is when I realized my babies are no longer. Sure they will always be MY babies. I carried them in my womb. I birthed both of them, one au naturel (read: no pain meds) and the other with a wonderful epidural. I nursed them, one who wanted no parts of it and one who was greedy from birth. But just as I no longer physically possess the ability to carry children, I no longer view the children I do have as helpless infants that have to rely on either myself or their dads for every single thing.
I am proud of every accomplishment they have achieved thus far and all the wonderful things they will conquer in the years to come. I witnessed my son signing for his very first paycheck, complete with taxes taken out. I watched over my daughter as she penned her first blog posts. It hit me in these moments last week that these are young adults now. When did this happen?
Well probably when they began to exercise autonomy in the school activities they signed themselves up for, or when our mommy and me kitchen adventures turned into them cooking their own meals on occasion, or when they began to express disinterest in being plastered all over my social media, namely because they now operate their own pages and control what they want the world to see. I respect that decision and I respect them.
When I realized I no longer have babies I was sad for a brief moment but then I smiled because I played a part in raising respectable young adults.