An Apology To The Mom of Small Children...

Dear Mom of Small Children,

On August 27th, 2018, I became emancipated from my children. I rose in rank from stay-at-home mom to stay-at-home-mom-with-kids-in-elementary-school. I take this promotion very seriously. It comes with lunch breaks, smoke breaks (if I WANTED TO...I'm not smoking, Mom...chill), all the breaks! I could bop around the house to Cardi B in my underwear all day. I could sit in Starbucks and suck down lattes just to see how many my body can handle. I could write about life as a mom. (Where's the sly-face emoji when you need him? He's on my A-team.) I'm a free agent and life is good. Add to my list of good fortunes the fact that my kids have learned to feed themselves and do laundry. This is LIVING, girl. It is smug-central over here. 

In a period of life when I'm shedding my Mom of Small Children skin, I need to have a look around and check myself. It's real easy for me to get caught up in the excitement of moving into "big kid world". Physical demands on me go way down and actual assistance in daily life is on the upswing. My clan can get their own snacks. I can declare an entire afternoon "off" and read on the couch. My former small ones are now grown enough to play outside and ride bikes without me having constant eyes on them. I've entered into a good season and all those sleepless nights and long, crying-filled days are now being cashed in for some freedom. 

But then I see YOU. The Mom of Small Children. You're pushing a cart full of angry, shrieking mini-yous in front of me at the grocery store. You can't think over the noise of your hungry, over-it babies. You're my friend who now runs on a couple hours of sleep a night. You can't remember the last time you weren't woken up by crying. You're an acquaintance on the playground who desperately wants to take a minute to just sit on the bench, but is chasing your monkey-child like it's your job. Oh, wait. You are everywhere and my declarations of freedom and "big kids" are cutting. You're so polite and you try to smile when I pout about the kids having too many days off of school. But I catch it. The hurt behind your eyes. I've left the tribe and have already forgotten the daily struggle. The minute-by-minute need to just hold on when life with small children is so intense you wonder where your strength will come from. Sister, I have failed you. I was so caught up in my parental graduation, I left you hanging. Your needs for a supportive, listening ear went unmet. And your desire for an hour away from your baby to collect your thoughts was unfulfilled. 

While humbling, I hope I caught myself soon enough to return to the tribe. My kids may have reached a new phase of life, but I am still a mother. Being a mother comes with the responsibility to sidle up next to my sisters and help carry the load when I can see you buckling under the weight. I'm sorry you've had to endure such a selfish version of myself lately. This isn't quitting time. I'm not throwing in the towel here. I have much work to do. There are so many of you in my world and I see you. I hope you'll accept my apology and allow me to right my wrongs as a Mom of Older Kids. I got caught up in the hype, what can I say? You'll, too, have your day in the sun. It will arrive sooner than it seems. You'd better believe I'll be there to celebrate with you. But in the meantime, allow me to walk with you in the hard. I can see now that's where this mom-promotion has been leading me. 

Stay strong, lady.