Will I Really Miss This?

I have heard mothers of babies and young children ask this question before. I have asked it myself so. many. times.

Will I really miss this?

When you are smack dab in the middle of the hardest mothering moments you wonder.

Women who’s children have grown up tell us this. We will miss this. They swear on it. And we wonder.


How will I miss the sleepless nights and the spit up stained wardrobe and the endless poopy diapers.


How will I miss spending hours pretending to enjoy playing race cars (AGAIN) and singing the Barney song (AGAIN) and asking if anyone needs to go potty (AGAIN).


Well, I’m here to tell you how. They grow up. And you face a whole new era of parenting.

One full of teaching your grown child about bullying, about strangers, about not trusting everyone who smiles at you. You teach them about consequences and disappointment and they learn that there are bad people out there. Really bad people.

You spend your days sheltering them from the harshness of this world while trying ever so hard to not be overprotective while they learn life’s injustices. You sit back and let them feel the pain of it. Because you have to. In just a few years, you won’t be there to protect them anymore. So you let the world start creeping in. Slowly. Because soon, so soon, someone other than you will hold their hand and whisper in their ear.

And you hope and pray those people will love them as much as you do. That the world will love them and value them as much as you do. Which is hard. Because you know it just might not.

One day I will miss even these days. These days of soccer practice and game night and Star Wars marathon weekends.

One day soon I will wonder if they are safe. Hope they come home by curfew. Pray to God they are in the “good crowd”. I will…gulp…give them the keys to the car.

One day I will miss this. I know it’s true. Even when there isn’t enough coffee in the world for that 8 am Saturday morning soccer game in the rain.

I will miss this.  And you will too.

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