If my children’s school-age years were a seesaw I was standing on, this year marks the downhill slant. The last 6 years of what will be 19 school years total.

The first 6 were up the seesaw – only Natalie in school. The next 7 years I was balanced at the fulcrum with both of them in school. And now, I begin the 6 years where only Alex is in school. There’s more time behind me than before me for this particular life phase.

And I’ve cried my self sick about it. We don’t talk about the grief of regular motherhood enough. There is grief even when everything goes as it should – milestones being met and kids growing up. It is a privilege, a blessing, and a heartbreak. Even the best road to this point is tricky, messy, exhausting. There are at least a few handfuls of essays I could write about it.

But lately I’ve been thinking the most of how I can’t give my youngest the same childhood I gave my oldest. I didn’t notice any of this from my own childhood partially because I was the oldest, and partially because my sister and I were only one grade apart. My kids are 6.5 years apart in age and 6 grades apart. When Natalie was in middle school, she had a young elementary school brother. The activities and traditions we started when she was little were continued on for him, so they continued for her. Alex has a college age sister now. Some traditions and activities have been outgrown now by both of them. Natalie got to still do them when she was in middle school, maybe preserving a little extended childhood magic for her that’s not available for Alex. I can’t do anything about that. Not to mention Alex is an old soul who out grew “childish” things very quickly. If he had been the oldest, maybe he would have had fun doing “kid” things with his younger sibling? Maybe not. Who knows?

Parenting is always full of guessing games. What if? Maybe? Should I?

There’s a big family vacation we used to do in the mountains that Natalie got 6 more summers of than Alex. She went to church preschools. She went to Disney. We used to do weekly suppers with my parents. She had more church time as a kid. She tagged along to all my girlfriend lunches and baby showers.

He’s had more of his childhood with 3 retired grandparents at his disposal. He’s had more time at this age with his Dad on first shift. I fell asleep in his bed more nights than hers. We spent more time one on one while Natalie was at practices. He had in-home preschool.

There’s just no way to even it out. A lot changes in 6 years. Jobs, routines, family members, health, the world around us.

It feels like a little extra mourning of his childhood shifting to adolescence, because there’s no younger sibling to keep things young for. To give him a little wiggle room. We’re a big kid household now. I don’t have anyone to bring the little seasonal picture books out for (a true heartbreak for me). I don’t have to become any fictional character at the holidays or upon the loss of any teeth. I don’t need to look for splash pads in the summer or kid-centric anything. I didn’t build a single sandcastle at the beach.

And part of that is so freeing. I can clear out things I’ve held on to (too long of course) “just in case”. I can start pursuing my own hobbies outside of the home more freely. I can expect that everyone in the house can actually do everything they need to on their own if I’m not there. (Haven’t achieved them doing it when I am there, but honestly that is also another couple of essays worth of discussion).

We all have more autonomy and it’s got to be one of the most bittersweet gifts a parent can ever receive. We crave it, long for it, beg for it, fight for it, pray for it, work towards it. And then, after so many years, we get it. And we wonder if we could trade it in just every once in a while for a day or two of the little kid years.

And we think about all the things we may have done with each kid if we’d known more, been more, had more.

What I don’t have is a way to give Alex the middle school and high school experience that Natalie had. What I do have is the next 6 years to give him everything available for him. The same way I can’t give my kids my childhood, I can’t give him hers. He’s a different child with a different personality and a different path anyways. Maybe the difference in ages allows me to see that more clearly than I would if they were closer in age.

And then I think, oh I wish I’d had the experience and wisdom I have now for Alex back when Natalie was younger.

Parenting can really be a never ending game of “what if” and sometimes that leaves you blind to what is. There is a bit of being a parent that requires inner work –

reflecting, grieving, cherishing,

acknowledging, learning, forgiving,

rejoicing, aching, pruning,

releasing

weaving

becoming

Setting our ship right and adjusting our eyesight. The entire thing is a practice, an art.

To settle into yourself as the next leg of the journey approaches. A bit old, a bit new. All of everything before woven snug against your skin, except whatever you had to trim. New clothes for the new year. Ready as I can be. 7th grade, college, and who knows what else…

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