A pair of pants

As I was doing laundry today, I caught myself today eyeing a pair of blue jeans that once belonged to Tristan, but now Samuel wears them. My heart got all gooey when I thought of how small the pair of Levi's actually are. And then just as my heart was all warm and toasty of the tiny pants, my heart sank as I felt the twinge of disappointment that Tristan was no longer a baby. He no longer babbles and googoos words, he does not have to be helped into the car, he does not need me to even get dressed anymore. For a while when Tristan was smaller, I had the biggest ordeals every morning as I agonized over leaving my screaming baby, toddler, and little boy at daycare. We fretted over separation, we cried every morning for three years. And then one day as if magic, he finally did as I asked him to do, I had prayed for him to do for three years, he just went into his classroom and waved goodbye and said his love you's. Since that moment of his official separation, I felt like Tristan grew up a lot that day and the days to follow. He would joyfully skip into school every day, happy to be there! What a change and a sigh of relief I felt as his mommy.


I have had so many emotions over him lately. I felt like there was this separation from him and myself. What it has been, is that Tristan is growing up, gathering ideas for himself and desiring his own independence.


Today I was called from his preschool to "talk" to Tristan on the phone. Tristan had a little fall at recess time and he lost it. He immediately reverted back to that screaming toddler that do longed to feel his mothers arms around him and have her kiss on his cheeks. He gave into his big boy feelings and let loose to want his mommy. As I spoke tenderly to my baby on the PHONE, I felt like the world's worst mom. I could not just jump up and grab him and hold him like he needed right at that exact moment. Someone else was doing that for me. It was hard. As soon as I could break away from work, I went to the school and there was my big boy, whom an hour before had had an emotional come apart, making a bead bracelet in his art class. I stood in the doorway and watched him. My eyes danced in amazement as I watched my boy, my big kid do big kid things. Tristan was sniffling still from his earlier tears as he poked beads onto a red pipe cleaner that looked a little worn out from his constant shoving and forcing of the small beads. After a few minutes of "my mom is here" moments we parted ways with hugs, kisses, and a beaded bracelet that he "made for me." He told me, "Mom, I make everything for you. You are my love, my heart." I cannot explain to you the emotion it exumes in a mother when those precious words are spoken from her child. I shed some tears as I thought in a few months, my baby would attend Kindergarten for the first time and he would be thrust into an environment foreign to him. A public school world where Jesus and God are left at home along with prayer in schools.