Saying goodbye...

I’ve been avoiding it for years.  It’s as if hanging onto it all somehow kept them young.

Among it, the Parents instrument set that Carter got 8 years ago for his first birthday. It entertained all of us, including Addison 4 years later, with hours of stomping around the living room, creating an orchestra of noise. Then there was the Little People train and barn set, also a classic, that sparked Carter's 4-year train obsession, provided Addison with her first opportunities for imaginary play, and me glorious floor time with each of them.  These coveted friends journeyed with us for almost 9 years and finally departed our home in trash bags, each giving their final “beep” or “jingle” as if to say, “Thanks for having us…we’re onto something new."

It was the triggering event that finally dislodged the lump in my throat that's been lurking for the months leading up to Addison leaving for Kindergarten. I fell apart. I'm now a Mother of school-age kids; the process of cleaning out our playroom brought to light that my life stage of kids-still-at-home is over.

Sure, the de-cluttering process has been freeing. Carter unapologetically told me which of the (thousands of) toy cars could go, as well as the various stuntmen that drove them and the action figures that tried to blow them up.  The millions of tiny pieces (Tinkerbell's 1mm-sized shoe) that once had to find safety on Christmas morning (to avoid being tossed with the wrapping paper) is now safely among its kind for the next child to adore. I can see our playroom floor and the items that filled every square inch of my living room now feels “clean”.  And I take great joy in knowing that we are passing along bags and bags of treasures to kids who would otherwise not have them.

But beyond the "cleaning out" lies the reality that yet another chapter of my life is over and the pace at which this next one will pass will be twice as fast.

A friend of mine sent her oldest son to college this year and of the many emotions she expressed, one of them was “weirdly natural”.  I’m not quite there yet. While I know the “stuff” doesn’t make the “stage”, I'm sad to go from Geotrax to Minecraft, from Princesses to apps.

We’re moving on and I know that what awaits me around the next corner of their lives will be delightful and exciting. And I know that God has prepared me to Mother them differently; to love them in this next stage...

But for now, I’m missing the one where they’re just little.