Every once in a while… just for a fleeting moment… I catch a glimpse of my girls as they will be when they grow up.
Ten year old Zoe.
Fifteen year old Izzy.
It used to scare me to pieces, these little trips into the future.
I am not the mother of grown up kids. I don’t do grown up kids. I don’t even do school aged kids. I do little kids. I do babies and toddlers and especially preschoolers. That’s what I studied, that’s who I worked with, that’s what I love. I love being the mother of little kids.
For a while I simply decided to just keep having babies so that I could always be the way I saw myself… as a mother of little kids. Then, even if my kids grew up, maybe I wouldn’t have to. I could still live in the moment when my biggest concern was toilet training or how to get the baby to sleep. I could stay within my comfort zone forever.
Ok so that is a pretty dumb plan. I can’t just keep on having more and more kids (we don’t have space for the ones we’ve already got!) and this wonderful plan fails to take into account the kids I already have. You know… those ones who are already growing up. Still… the ostrich plan seemed much more palatable to me for a long long time.
Recently though…. every now and then I catch those glimpses of my future motherhood and I realise I am not quite so scared as I used to be.
The idea of being a mother to school aged kids doesn’t seem quite so petrifying any more and I can actually image myself the mother of teenagers (ok that bit is still a little terrifying). I’m beginning to see a way forward, even some positives about my kids growing up. I’m beginning to see myself as the mother of grown up kids… and it’s not that bad, not that bad at all.
Mind you… I think I’ll stick with my initial plan as well… nothing like the best of both worlds!