Warning: Mommy Post

My oldest went to his first sleep over.  He's sleeping like a baby... at someone else's house.

All went successful, per any Mother's hope.  He was a true blue ham, as his bloodline dictates.  And you know what, I'm very pleased.

I'm also a tad, irrationally, unnerved that he didn't ask for Mommy. I know that it's a good thing. He's well adjusted and is comfortable. Obviously, the choice of where the first sleep over takes place is a big key.  He's in very good hands. 

And so it starts.  This little person you carried with you, feeling every move and hiccup.  The one who's cough kept you, not them, up all night out of unfounded concern.  He's growing up to be social, comfortable, and happy to explore different things.  Essentially, he's growing up.

You joke as a Mom about how it'll be when they are independent, about how they will eventually forget you exist except for when you are out of food.   You talk about how one day you'll be able to sleep in and go out when you want. 

But really, you watch every move.  You watch every single move and cringe when you think it may hurt. Let me rephrase that, when you think there is a slight possibility that they could possibly get hurt.  That goes with mind, body, or spirit.  And the spirit is a doozy. Thankfully, they don't know how fragile it is. 

So I cringed walking him to his sleep over. I fought my desire to say 'You can call Mommy anytime to pick you up!'  Why plant the negative. Just because I hated sleep overs until I was like 21 doesn't mean he'll have an issue with it. 

And it's a very accomplishing feeling to see your kid adapt to a new situation with ease.  At the same time, you feel a little sand slip from your fingers.

Thank goodness I'm not the type to try to hold onto it.  Sand should be held in an easy hand, being allowed to go where the wind takes it.  I fight the urge to hold onto it daily.  But I figure, isn't the goal of picking up sand in the first place, to see the beauty in how it slides out from your fingers?