I’m not a particularly emotional person. I mean, I cry at movies and those Folgers commercials where the soldier shows up on Christmas morning. But generally speaking, I’m not a mushy person. I write more emotionally than I speak and half the sweet stuff I write on this blog I’d never say to the people in person.
Which is kind of sad, actually.
Let’s think about what that means in my life for a moment…
Nevermind. Let’s not.
I FEEL emotions. I just don’t show them too often. Lately though my emotions seem to be in overdrive. Specifically my emotions dealing with Bean for some reason. I’m thinking it probably has something to do with coming closer to the arrival of Miss Gracie and worrying about how all of this new change is going to effect him. I’m sure that’s part of it. But a bigger part of it is knowing that when Gracie arrives, Bean won’t be the baby anymore. He’ll be the Big Brother.
And something about associating Bean with being a big boy makes my tear ducts leak.
It started happening first when I went through all of Bean’s baby things about a month ago to pull out anything I could use for Gracie and to giveaway anything I wouldn’t be using. As big as Bean is getting, I still see him as my little baby. A little guy. But going through those newborn clothes and blankets and bottles and tiny blue socks made it impossible to face the fact that Bean is growing up so fast.
It happened again when I picked him up from daycare two weeks ago and he started crying when I said it was time to go. I know, I know… That’s a good sign. You want your child to be well adjusted and happy at daycare. Yadda, yadda, yadda. But it just about broke my heart right in two and, if I’m really honest, I might have actually teared up in the car when we left that day. Every day since then, Bean has cried. I’m interrupting him, apparently. Showing Ethan how to slide down the slide is clearly more fun than hugging Mom after a long day. Reading books in circle time is obviously more interesting than cuddling on Mom’s lap. And I AM happy that he’s so settled at his daycare and I DO feel good that he’s in a place he loves all day. But seeing this reaction just confirms that there are now other things in Bean’s little life outside of me and Chris. He has a world and a life away from us and even as small as that world is at 19-months-old, it still makes me sad.
Then last night, Chris and I had a date night while Bean spent the night with my parents. Over dinner, Chris talked about how much he was looking forward to cheering for Bean on the sidelines at soccer or football or whatever. He talked about how much fun it would be to see him running around on that field and learning new things. And I am excited about those things, too. I can’t wait for that phase to start in Bean’s life. But there’s also a sadness that comes with that for me. Because if Bean is out on that field and I’m sitting on the sidelines, then how am I going to hold his hand???? If he falls down and skins his knee, how am I going to get to him in a nanosecond to apply Neosporin and butterfly kisses???? Or, even worse, if he misses a goal or some big play, how am I going to protect him and make him feel special and important????
Logically, I know that these things are bound to happen. And I know that he’s only 19-months-old and most of these natural stages of independence will come gradually over time and that that will make them easier to handle. But when I’m sitting in the very rocking chair where I used to rock Bean to sleep and he’s sitting next to me working a puzzle perfectly and pointing out shapes and counting to ten, my tear ducts just can’t handle the truth! The truth is that Bean is growing up and while having Gracie Girl will give me that baby loving that I miss, it won’t be Bean that I’m rocking or feeding or swaddling in tiny blankets.
And my hormones are having a hard time dealing with that at the moment.
Today I am grateful for lessons that teach me patience.