Sometimes I sit and watch my children do some of the things on their own, and it hits me in the quietest moments how fast they are growing. It’s strange because as a mother, I spend years being needed for almost everything. From tying shoelaces to helping with homework, from comforting tears to answering endless questions, my whole world revolves around being there for them.
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Then one day, little by little, they stop needing much of my help in the same ways. The little kids of yesterday can now eat by their selves, put on their trousers without needing my help.
Honestly, it’s a bittersweet feeling. Part of me feels proud seeing them become more confident and independent. It means I must have done something right. But another part of me aches a little because every new thing they learn to do on their own is also a reminder that they are growing up faster than I’m ready for.
Nobody really talks about this side of motherhood enough. People talk about sleepless nights, diapers, school runs, and the stress that comes with raising children. But they don’t always talk about the emotional side of watching your children slowly build lives that no longer revolve completely around you. And honestly, that realization can be hard.
And I know this is just the beginning because there will come a moments when I will miss the younger versions of them just like my mama do, the days when they would hold my hand everywhere we went or call out for me over the smallest things. Even though I used to feel exhausted sometimes and wished for a little more quiet. But those noisy little moments were some of the most precious parts of motherhood I think.
Just like my mother said that I should remind myself that this is exactly what parenting is supposed to do. We raise our children so they can become strong enough to stand on their own. We teach them how to make decisions, how to face challenges, and how to believe in themselves. Love is not only about holding on tightly, sometimes it’s also about slowly loosening your grip, even when your heart wants to do the opposite just like she did.
What I’m learning is that love changes as children grow. When they are little, love looks like protection and constant presence. As they get older, love becomes trust, support, encouragement, and giving them space to become who they are meant to be.
That doesn’t make the love smaller. If anything, it becomes deeper. No matter how independent my children become, I know a part of me will always worry about them, pray for them, and hope life is kind to them. I’ll always be their mother, even when they no longer need me in the same ways they once did.
And maybe that’s the quiet beauty of motherhood, learning how to let your children grow while still carrying them in your heart every single day.
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