When you were born you needed me for everything. And you were everything to me.
When you were one you started to realize there were other people in the world. And though I reveled in your brilliant little self, my heart broke.
When you were two you toddled around to explore and learn. I was too busy chasing and saving you from falling to stop and cherish the moments of craziness.
When you were three you spoke words of wisdom, I just couldn’t understand it all. Though your little voice was a song to my heart.
When you were four you started to want other playmates and you were well on your way to determining who you were going to be. Your temper and disposition were already evident. It made me laugh. It made me cry. It gave me hope for the world.
When you were five you left me to start a part of your life that was not centered around me. I was not nearly as excited as you. I could not protect you every second of every day. And I did not trust the world to do as good a job as I had been doing.
When you were ten you were fully aware of the good and the bad. Sometimes you were good. Sometimes you were bad. But you were always perfect to me.
When you were fifteen you became the smartest person you knew. And I was relegated to the role of provider, transporter and the source that drained your tolerance. You thought you had the market on eye rolling. You just didn’t see me when you turned your back.
When you were eighteen you believed you were as grown up and mature as anyone could be. You understood more than I ever would. And the world did not have anything you could not handle without your mom.
When you were twenty one you realized that the world is vast and demanding. You wished for the days when life was simple and someone else (mom) cleaned the house, paid the bills and made the decisions. I was so proud of you for braving it on your own. Doing what you had to do.
When you were twenty three you looked at me and said “mom I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all you have ever done for me”.
And my heart sang.
If I could do it over again I would do more, expect more, share more. But I could never, no matter how many chances I got to correct my parenting life, love you more than I always have.
Since the day you were born.