Walking

Honestly, I'm not quite sure how to word this entry. Lucy, it seems, has now decided that walking is better than crawling. This realization came to her last Sunday after church, and for a week now she has been practicing, tooling around the house, turning with the cutest little "spin" I've ever seen (one foot solidley planted on the ground while the other foot is mobile, turning Lucy's body in her desired direction...). It is a great accomplishment for her, and I am a beeming mom concerning her ability and her mobility.

or am I? Truly, when Lucy crossed the kitchen on two feet I had the most unexpected reaction. I cried, and I cried again. My life as the mom of babies has come to an end, and there is something in this truth that brings into my heart a sense of lost identity. While I can jump for joy that all my children can now walk upright, thus opening the way for them to all potty themselves, dress themselves, eventually make their own beds and even wash a dish or two, it also means that I am aging as a mother. My abilities to pull all-nighters and make meals with hands full of little bodies will soon become obsolete. And just when I was getting good at it. Soon will be gone the time when Good Night Moon is read by rote to little ears before bed. Soon will be gone walks around the block taken at my pace because I'm the one pushing the little bodies in the stroller. No more cradling as babies fall asleep in my arms at church. No more baby magic lotion, no more whole milk in the fridge for that bedtime bottle and cuddle. This part of my life is in its sunset, and the day of babies will close for me.

I know it is all part of life, and that now I must evolve into that other mom who can manage schedules for ballet practices, various school start times (Jr. High, Elementary and Pre-school to be exact) and listen to complex problems involving what a friend said at school that was crushing and how my teenager accidentally started the food fight in the cafeteria. I need to be the mom who can deliver forgotten lunches, help on the PTA boards and volunteer in the community when all the kids are happy in school (Lucy will be my only charge 3 mornings a week come September, crazy to only have one carseat to buckle, and one body to transport to and from the grocery store or the schools etc.). I have to be the mom who is young at heart as I try to age gracefully while fitting in a work out each day and kindly turning down the treats. I can do that, I'm sure I can. I'll like it too-especially come the day when all the diapers can be handed down to younger nieces and nephews and everyone learns how to flush for themselves...

But, this baby era of my life while challenging has been defining. And now that clear definition is fuzzy. Hard stuff for a gal in her mid-30's. Aging and maturing has never been something I've done with great dignity. Wish me luck , it could be a shaky evolution from mom of babies to mom of big kids. I hope as the dawn of my "mature" mothering approaches I can be what my big ones will need for me to be. Change can be good if embraced and welcomed in. Hello new day I guess. I'm ready to face you.