For the first three years of your life, it was all you. All of your firsts, all of your milestones. Every single time you did something new, you had a first, so did we. We captured all of it. I wrote about it, I measured your everything, I wrote you letters, I journaled for you, I captured it all in photos, I created so many albums with you front and center.
Then, the other day I was thinking about how you leave for college, Cole will only be 15 and will still have a lot of firsts and milestones. Maybe a prom, driving lessons, driving on his own, maybe a team. There will be moments that exist and will be captured and you will not be here to see them. You won't be in the memories, because you won't be here.
And just like he literally wasn't here for the first three years of your life, you will not be in our home the last three years of his life with us full time. I don't know why I am thinking about this now and I don't know why it feels stranger to me to think of it and it wasn't strange at all with it in reverse.
The obvious reasons are he wasn't even a thought back then. He was a fit to a puzzle we didn't know was even missing. But once you got here, you were always here, with us. The thought of you living out there, calling to catch me up (hopefully), the thought of life moving on because you've moved on, it's all so far-away and right around the corner.
When I get like this, dad gets annoyed thinking that I'm so focused and living in a world that is so far off that I'm not present and enjoying all the things between now and then. But, I see it differently. For me, thinking of those days makes me more present, more patient, more on top of being with you. Because I know the window will close so so soon.
Listen, your mama has done a pretty decent job not making you her everything. I love my work, I have friends, I have activities and hobbies, I even have an empty nest bucket list. But, as much as I have tried to make my life full outside of motherhood, I have really loved motherhood. I truly adore and feel so special and chosen to be your mom. I feel so honored that you picked me. I tuck you in and see that little face, those little cheeks, I cannot help but get overwhelmed with the fact that I get to do this. I get to mother you. I get to be your goodnight kiss. I get to help you, I get to take walks with you. I get to be the one you can't wait to tell stories to. I get to be your mama.
And soon, all too soon, I get to watch you be the person you were always meant to be, out there. All too soon, I get to watch from the side lines and my front row seat will be replaced, taken away. I promise I know it is the way it has to be, is meant to be, the stupid circle of life and all, but yeah,
It's going to happen. I know that and I know that anything I try and do to slow it down or hold on too tight will make it backfire and have you resent me. So, I have to let it happen.
It's going to happen. You are going to grow up and out of your little. My little book nerd (god I hope you keep that always and forever) will find new passions and loves. My little one that tells me how much she adores me, and wants hugs all of the time, will fight me when I want any time with her (I do hope you hold on to some of our times together). My little one that tells me ALL of the things, with ALL of the details, will keep things closer to her chest.
It's going to happen. We're going to have years of pictures with just Cole, and you won't be there. You won't be a part of it, you'll be living a life somewhere else. You'll be checking in, more like I'll be begging for a check in. But, I'm going to have to really get my head around it being a different set of three. Until we are back down to the two who started it all.
