Finding Joy in the Firsts and Lasts of Raising Children

This week marks the last day of school for this year, and, with it, comes a few more lasts:

Carson’s last day of kindergarten. No more kindergarten graduations for us.

Andrew’s last day of middle school. High school seems a little bit intimidating.

Elise’s last day of elementary school. Will middle school be good for her?

We are celebrating for sure. There were days when we wondered if Andrew would make it through middle school with grades and friends still intact. We wondered if the drama of fifth grade (and fourth…and third…) would ever end. We wondered if sending Carson to kindergarten this year was the right thing to do, given his late birthday.

But, here we are, at the end of a journey, with middle school…and high school…and first grade with the big kids right around the corner.

These are all exciting new adventures. So why am I a just a little bit sad?

Because it means that my babies are growing up way too fast; that’s why. It means that there are many more lasts to come in the next few years, and I don’t want them to arrive too quickly:

The last time Carson sits on my lap and snuggles up to me.

The last time he sits behind me in Primary and lays his head on my shoulder while I sit with the class in front of his.

The last time he holds my hand while crossing the street.

The last time that he needs me to walk him into school and help him carry his backpack.

The last time that he falls asleep on the way home from school after an exhausting day.

 The last time we snuggle with a book on the couch.

The last time he brings me a cup full of flowers that he picked from the yard.

I talk about Carson because he is my baby, and the list of lasts seems to be growing longer as I think about how fast he is changing. But other lasts are coming for the older kids, as well:

The last time Jordan asks for a ride to his friend’s house before wanting to drive there himself.

The last time he walks into high school.

The last time he sleeps in his room.

The last time we sit and talk before he leaves home for a mission, college, and beyond.

The last time we have our entire family together for a family vacation before the kids start leaving home.

 The last time Kate and Carson think I am awesome (I think we are already there with the other kids).

The last time Elise goes out of the house without wearing make-up.

The last time Andrew and Jordan stay up late into the night laughing and joking instead of studying like they should be doing.

The last time I am taller than my boys.

The last time Kate dresses up to do her homework.

Man, I am getting sad just thinking about it. I know that BIG changes are on the horizon, and I don’t know that I am ready to let these kids grow up. I wish I could freeze time because I love the stage that we are in right now.

Carson is old enough to be somewhat self-sufficient, but still loves to snuggle and still thinks I am the best person in the world. Jordan is not quite old enough to drive, and I know the world will change a little for him when that door opens.

The kids in between are all just plugging away, keeping things interesting, but young enough that I don’t have too many major worries about them yet. Time has a crazy way of slipping through my fingers, and I know I cannot stop it.

So I will be sad for a minute. I think I deserve that after mothering five children for almost 16 years. But I can’t be sad for too long because I also look forward to the future. As much as I hate to think about my kids growing up, I love to watch it happen.

It is exciting to watch the young people that they are growing up to become. It warms my heart to see them apply the things that we have spent years trying to teach them. As I watch them, I can’t help thinking that their future is bright. There is much for them to learn still, and a lifetime for them to become what they are meant to become.

It was never my plan to keep my kids with me forever. I have always wanted to help them make their own lives into something extraordinary. Unfortunately, that requires that they learn what they can from me, and then use that knowledge to fly away.

No, not fly.

Soar.

Because in my heart, I know that soaring is what they were always meant to do. So I will hold their hands for a little while longer, at least those who still want to hold my hand. For the rest, a shoulder pat or fist bump may have to suffice.

Then together we will look forward to all of the firsts that still await:

The first time that Jordan gets behind the wheel of the car.

First crushes

First dates

First kisses

First jobs

The first day of college

Sending out our first full-time missionary

First wedding

First grandchild

OK, I am suddenly feeling ancient, so I’d better stop there. I can almost feel my hair turning gray. My point is, however, that there is still MUCH to look forward to, and all of these lasts are only the beginning of many more firsts.

So I will anticipate the firsts and savor the lasts, knowing that they each have their place.

Yes, motherhood is important work. These firsts and lasts have a funny way of reminding me of that.