Mother of an adult child? I am not ready for this :(

It has been a long time since I blogged and this isn't some highly controversial topic, so whether it gets read or not will remain to be seen.  To be honest, if it doesn't, it's okay with me as I am writing this one for me.

Today is a momentous day in our lives.  Our first born child turns 18.  That means he is now an adult.  No longer a child.  So what? He's only a day older than yesterday, right?  True, but so much changes with the stroke of midnight on the first legal birthday.

All of a sudden, he can vote.  He can go to the bar (in Alberta, anyhow).  He can get married without my permission.  He can get a tattoo without my permission.  Borrow money (from someone other than us).  His taxes go up.  He starts paying into government programs that he will likely never get to use.  It's all just a little too much for me to wrap my head around.

This is all mixed up with immense pride at how far he has come.  How he has grown from tiny baby of 7lbs 10oz to 135lbs of man (that just does NOT seem right - man???)?  How can it possibly be 18 years since we were in the hospital in Lacombe dealing with awful back labour and every doctor, intern, nurse and random guy off the street was popping in to check the expansion of my nether regions?  How can it be 18 years ago since members of both sides of the family were sitting in the waiting room waiting on news of the first grandchild on either side of the family (for my mom on my side at least)?  

 Why does all of this looking back make me want to bawl my eyes out?  It's not like we have raised a serial killer or I am concerned about him being a deadbeat or that I think he's going to be living a lonely, sad existence.  I am not.  He has good morals, he is a hard worker, he's smart, he's so kind and genuine, he has good taste in friends and in girlfriends and he is good to his family.  All of these are things for hubby and I to be proud of.  From our own early days as a young married couple without a clue what to do with this baby we had planned for to today with a really good life - we managed to raise a smart, kind, loyal, able-bodied, funny, genuine young man.  So, why the sadness?  Why the aching heart?  Why the tears?

Here's what I think.  I think that it is all a little too much, too soon.  I mean, from the time they are born, we are always thinking about how we can't wait until they say mama or dada and we can't wait til they walk, can't wait til they go to school, can't wait til they go out into the world... The fact is, we wish away so much time.  Even if we are enjoying the moment, we are still wishing for the next big milestone.  Well, one of them is here right now and I don't like it.  I don't want it to be time yet.  I am not ready.  Dammit, I AM NOT READY.

It's not that I feel old.  I don't care about my age.  I am still alive, I am in pretty good health, I have a good life.  It is just a number.  What I feel is sad.  I wish I could go back and slow those moments down.  That I would have hugged him a little longer, snuggled with him a few more times.  I wish I could put into words how full my heart is of love and pride.  I wish that I hadn't wished so much away. I feel like I just want to go back in time and start again.  Chances are, if we did, we would screw it up, but I am just not ready to be done with my job.  Our daughter is probably going to hate me because I will be needing to feel like I have to hang on to her a bit tighter and smother her a bit more for the next 2 1/2 years.

The hardest thing I ever did in my life aside from saying goodbye to my grandmother what I felt was 20 years too early, was leaving our boy in Alberta when we moved.  In a sense, he has been an adult since July 20, 2017 as he has been on his own since then.  But this sort of finalizes it.  It is sort of like someone has taken a machete to the last invisible remnants of the umbilical cord and sliced it away.  For as much as I am proud and full of love and hope and happiness for his future, I am sad that 18 years went by so fast.

Take my advice... Hold onto the moments.  Don't wish away time.  Don't wish that you had more time to go on vacation, that you had more time to read and do all the things YOU want to do.  Just embrace the little moments, celebrate the big ones and do yourself and your kids a favour and be present.  Get off your phone.  Get them off theirs.  Take pictures but don't get so busy taking pictures that you forget to enjoy the memories your are capturing.  Hug them a little longer than is comfortable for them.  When they want to snuggle, don't brush them off because you have stuff to do.  The stuff will wait.  And in the end, if you are like me, even if you do all of that, you are still going to wish you had done more.  You are going to think that it went by too fast.

We only get them for a short time even though it may seem like forever when you first feel that nudge of life within you.  They should never doubt they are loved by their parents... EVER.

He's 18 today.  My heart is full, so are my eyes.  It went by too fast.  I am so not ready for this, but it's not about me anymore, it's all him.  I know he's going to do great things and make his mark in this world.  I hope he just remembers once in awhile to call his mom.  To tell her he loves her.  To come home to visit.  To snuggle on the couch like we used to, even when he's 40.

Who would have thought this would be such a bittersweet day?  I am just so not ready for this...