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Hey Mom! she calls to me, as she runs by on the soccer field.
I wonder, when did I become "Mom" instead of "Mommy"?
Later, at the playground, she asks me to push her on the swings.
Higher, Mom! I want to swing higher!
I reluctantly push her higher.
Higher, Mom! I want to go higher than the trees! Higher than the mountains! Higher than an airplane!!!
Oh no. That's much too high for me.
But ready or not, she's growing up.
Four years old today, and I remember how when she was two she had promised me she was going to stay little forever.
Silently, in my head, I beg her to keep swinging just a little lower, to stay just a little closer to me for just a little longer. But she wants to soar...ever higher, ever farther from me.
And because I know she's ready, I close my eyes...and push.
2 comments:
"And because I know she's ready..." - that sentence brought tears to my eyes because it so poignantly describes the process going on at our house as well. Bittersweet.
Sweet post! And my son has started calling me mom, also. Not sure where it came from, but it definitely made me a little sad. I wanted to stay "mommy" for awhile longer!
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