I was out jogging the other day... alone. It wasn't the best run, but I was without the kid so I was savoring the moment anyway (so much easier to run without a stroller!). As I turned back home, three kids on bicycles rode past. They were probably around 10-years-old. A couple of the boys had plastic shopping bags, so I assumed they had run out to the market for snacks. One of the boys was tall, blonde and slim. He was wearing a light blue shirt. From the back, it looked like an older version of Octavian.
At that moment, I felt both equally sad and scared. In just a handful of years I will have to let go of control and accept that Octavian is no longer my little baby boy. OK yeah, who am I kidding, my baby isn't so much of a baby anymore, but he still depends on me for just about everything. These kids, on the other hand, are out alone! Are their parents worried? I mean, I am worried for these parents! As I watched them bike away, all I could see was my grown up little boy.
I'm not ready for this part of motherhood. I will never be ready. And I'm not just talking trips to the store to get stacks with his buddies when he is 10-years-old. The thought of sending him off to preschool or kindergarten in a few years? terrifying. Who will protect him from bullies? Who will help him if he gets hurt? Who will love him when I'm not there?
I'm a person that thrives on consistency and control and this is something I simply cannot control. People warn you when you have kids that they grow up fast, but no one ever talks about why it's so hard to see them grow up so fast. The world is a big, scary place and I will not always be there to hold his hand. He will grow older and I will have to let go.