As we entered the pediatrician’s office, he headed straight for the toy box.
It is back to school season. Most of the kids here weren’t sick—they were getting their physicals so they could return to school.
I signed in and picked up the paperwork that was waiting for us.
Even my baby, my two-year old, needed his school forms.
Preschool starts this fall.
I can’t believe he’s old enough to go to school.
It seems like just yesterday that I was learning to nurse him, to swaddle him, to tell what his cries meant.
And here we were, completing his school paperwork.
As I sat down on the bench, I nodded to the mom sitting across from me. Her son, about 14 years old, sat with her. He looked up at my toddler, and both he and his mother smiled, laughter crossing their faces. Then he went back to playing Angry Birds on his phone.
A few minutes later, another mom and her son entered. He was 6 or 7 and headed straight for the xylophone. He was too old for it, really, but he was clearly bored by the concept of hanging out in the waiting room. His mother reminded him not to make too much noise.
And, as my son was trying out the series of child-sized rocking chairs, their primary colors worn through the years, another boy, the last boy, walked out from the examination area.
He was older, bigger than all the boys in the waiting room.
He was alone, he didn’t need his mother, and he handed his paperwork to the receptionist. Grabbed his car keys from his pocket.
“Thank you, sir,” she said.
Sir?
But he was a sir, a man, really. An adult.
It seemed impossible that he had just left the room the nurse would assign to my son, that the same kind doctor would examine them both.
That they could have anything at all in common.
But it wasn’t.
While my boy zoomed trucks across the waiting room floor and pushed the buttons on a toy telephone, I looked at these other boys.
Bigger boys.
Sitting and standing in stages, spread across the pediatrician’s waiting room.
Our future.
Their past.
And even though I know it is our fate, I struggled to believe it.
To believe that the little boy whose shirt was on both inside out and backwards, who was so proud of dressing himself that I couldn’t possibly fix it for him, would one day be one of these boys.
That one day, he would sit, quietly playing on his phone, amused by the antics of little boys.
That he might come to the doctor for his back to school check up without me.
And leave, swinging his car keys.
An air of independence and self-sufficiency and confidence surrounding him.
I hope I can instill that in him.
But, as a mom, it makes me a little sad too.
Because if I do my job right, one day, he won’t need me at the doctor’s office either.
And, to be honest, that breaks my heart, just a tiny bit.
Isn’t this lovely? And yes, how true. And I love that you were insightful enough to notice and share it with us.
You are killing me here. Killing me. That boy, with the car keys? Answering to “sir”? All six feet two inches of him.
That’s my baby boy. And when I see you and yours in the waiting room, I am remembering….and being wistful. What a roller coaster we are on, aren’t we?!
Loved this…
Wow, wow, wow.
I am seeing a little bit of what you saw in the doctor’s waiting room just within my family when I look back and forth between my 16 month old son and my 6 year old son. They were both born on the same day, so the contrast is exact – I can see where my baby will be in 6 years and it will go on.
It’s unbelievable how much they grow and change in such a short period of time. I love how you’re noticing all your boy’s changes and phases. When I read your posts, it reminds me to stop in the middle of the busyness and observe my little one’s changes.
Guess it just means we need to cherish every moment, even the hard ones.
I’m ready for my kids to not need me for changing diapers and hand feeding them but I’m not ready for them to be teenagers driving cars. Can’t we just freeze time at a certain age?
Natalie, you’ve just articulated beautifully all the emotions and thoughts us moms of toddlers that age go through. The push and pull of motherhood – sigh, so hard sometimes.
Wow, what an observation! I probably would have started crying right there!
Oh wow, the tears, they definately came. I think of this so often, whenever I see a group of teenage boys out and about, or the boy taking my order at lunch or the handsome young man who bags our groceries..they are someone’s son…and it is where my sons are headed and all I can do is get them there with a good moral compass and a air of confidence that will follow them. I felt this post so much ..thanks for writing it. Xoxo
I am crying a little. It is so hard, some days, to treasure the diaper changes and the impatience and inability to fully communicate. But I read this, and I know it is going to be gone in a blink
I have friends with babies. I look at them and then my own kids. I hope I can instill certain values and independence in my own, but I do miss those days when they were little. Days like yesterday when my son celebrated another birthday sometimes make it a little harder to realize they are growing up. Too fast!
You got me. Crying over here. I signed up my last child for preschool this year. I am very sad and now that I read this its worse.
So, thanks for that! HAAHA!
What a heart wrenching moment! So bittersweet. Love this. xo
Oh, the tears. I can’t picture my little ones ever growing up. The sheer thought of it brings tears to my eyes. I wish we could freeze time and keep them this little forever.
This was so beautifully written.
I’m going to pretend this isn’t true. I so want to see the adult he turns out to be, but I don’t want it to happen. He’s sitting next to me now, eating pasta (naked) and watching Max & Ruby (horrible show). It won’t be like this forever?
So sweet. I look at new, flustered parents with squeaky newborns at the ped’s, while my kids chat about their day across the room. I can’t believe they are already this big. Then a teenager comes in, and I shake my head in disbelief that they’ll be there one day. Crazy.
Real happy I saw this today, from TRDC linkup.
Yes. This gets me too. When my guy was just a baby I reconnected on FB with a boy I’d taught years ago and his mom – and seeing HIM, and being shocked by how he’d gone from this cute little brilliant guy to a big lanky brilliant college student, and knowing his mom, and thinking about what she must have gone through over the past 18 years watching him grow and mature, then looking down at my little squirmy newborn boy and thinking about his next 18 years – it really did sort of rock my world. And now, 2 years later, I’m still in awe of how much my guy has changed and I can’t even begin to imagine the man he will become. Except that he will DEFINITELY be a daredevil. Darn him.
Their growing up is so bittersweet. I love watching my little ones grow and change, but I also miss some of those baby times, too…..And even though some days I wish they needed me just a little less, I know that I will be sad when they don’t need me quite so much.
You have left me in tears! I so want time to move slower and my little man to stay little for so much longer.
Thank you so much for linking up to the Back to School Traditions link up!
“Because if I do my job right, one day, he won’t need me at the doctor’s office either.”
Oh so true, so so true. Yes, being a Mama is can be so bittersweet at times. My girl happily walked into her kinder classroom today with only a wave goodbye. And my guts twinged inside…hard. Since she’s little miss independent and I knew it would in no way set her back, I went ahead & ducked my head in (there were still other parents there) to give her a quick hug goodbye and she squeezed, leaned back and gave me the same four kisses she gives me each night and another bonus hug. I almost burst with happiness and left her to be her independent self. Her older brother is now all too conscious of the “cool” factor & not wanting to be seen hugging Mom. So, I’ll take those little extra squeezes when I can get them! :>
This is so lovely. It is a little heartbreaking every time we realize that one of our main jobs is to prepare our children for life without us. And to teach them to (gasp) drive a car! The thought of handing over car keys to either of my children gives me heart palpitations (: Visiting from JDaniel4mom Back to School Traditions
Wow, I think I would have cried too!
Oh this is so sweet. Every day my little one learns something new, and I know it’s a bit dramatic, but with every exciting milestone, I know I’m one step closer to dropping him off at college. I already miss the tiny baby we brought home from the hospital. Thank you for the reminder to slow down and cherish these moments. Visiting from the time travel.
Stopping from Time Travel Tuesday! I still love this post.
[...] If you’d like a sense of what my life as a work-at-home mom to a two-year old is like, you might enjoy The End of Summer, To Be Two, or A Glimpse of Our Future. [...]
[...] If you’d like a sense of what my life as a work-at-home mom to a two-year old is like, you might enjoy A Moment Out of Time, The End of Summer, His First Day, or A Glimpse of Our Future. [...]