Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up...

...At all.

My oldest is seven today. Most of our parenting instruction up to this point has revolved around pushing, or even forcing our children towards independance. Hugs, kisses and affection, yes. But no coddling of whiny kids trying to get their way. No baby talk. No "boo-boos" and "owies". And no one, not even nightmare terrified toddlers, can share the big bed with me and Will.

What may sound draconian to some parents has suited us fine as wine. Over the years I've noticed how one's parenting style is often a reflection of their circumstances. For example, I'm priveleged to know a few older parents who struggled with the conception and successful birth of their children. And they approach parenting with such a grateful attitude, cherishing the miracle of their child, that you can see their love on their faces and in their body language. They may be more likely to coddle and use the baby talk out of a true sense of wonder and privilege. I love being around parents like that. They encourage me to take the edge off my voice a little and sit back and smell the sunscreen.

Parents like me have a different worldview. I couldn't put into words the absolute and unconditional love I have for my babies. And I know that they know they are loved. But from day 1, even before day 1, say day -152, I've been preparing myself for their release into the world. The day when they would, hopefully, pack their bags and leave for a whole new life. To us, loving them and preparing them to leave us go hand in hand. You can't do one without the other.

My son is 7 today. Seven years ago we gave birth to someone who would someday have to pay his own bills and find his own way in the world. And like all parents, we want him to avoid our mistakes. Ask him about credit...he'll tell you that we don't borrow money to buy what we can't afford. Ask him about his chore money. He'll tell you that he has to put $2 into his savings envelope and he's never ever allowed spend it. He also has a fairly sophisticated understanding of his parents' religious differences and a slight understanding of Libertarianism. All these years, for seven years now, I have been preparing myself for the day when I let them go. And today I realized how soon the day will come.

Ava walks into my room, real tears streaming down her face. "She won't wet me play with her toy!!!"

I usually correct her, "Let. L L Let. Say it again, please." But I didn't correct her.

How long will her 'lets' be 'wets' and her 'verys' be 'berys'? How much longer will she ask to sit on my lap? How many more years before Charlie stops creating elaborate soccer matches between his toy cars? When will Juliet be done insisting on wearing Easter dresses with black tights and dress up jewelry? How much longer do I have before the sarcasm and rolling eyes start? It's only been seven years since we started this family but seven years is a millenium in the world of childhood. Yet it goes so fast. So, so fast. In another seven years he'll be taking his pre-SAT and beginning high school. Seven years from that he would have been three years out of the home. I married when I was 21. Could he be married in 14 years? In 14 years I'll be looking at my grown up son. In 14 short years I'll have a 19 year old daughter and a 17 year old daughter. In 14 years my whole world of parenting will be over.

I turned 30 two days ago. Cheers to me, I was carded on my birthday. Fourteen years ago I was a high school girl, waiting for my life to begin. Now my life is happening...and every day, every minute I need to remember how precious these hours are.

I'm not usually so sentimental, you know. But my baby turned seven today.

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