In a Heartbeat

Yesterday Ryker turned 18 and I am in a contemplative mood. I'm thinking about all kinds of things, some happy, some sad, the past, and the future yet to unfold. I start to write about how I feel, and then I erase it, because it seems dumb, trivial, and trite. Kids grow up, kids go to college, kids move away, and that is the way of it. Why should my feelings on the subject be anything noteworthy? How is my experience any more or any less than any other mother's?

At some moments I feel so full of joy and great wonder at how my baby boy grew into this amazing, capable young man. In other moments I feel such loss and despair. Like I am mourning the end of an era, the end of being the mother of children. I will always be a mother, but not the mother of children. Right now I am the mother of teenagers. Far too soon I will be the mother of adults. I don't know what to think of that and I certainly don't know how to do that.

I still have Quincie for a couple more years. That helps, for now. I don't even want to think about 2 years from now. Today and next week are quite enough thank you. She started school today. She is 16 and a Junior. I remember being 16 and a Junior. Was it really that long ago? The fashion is looking pretty similar. The skinny jeans, (we called them straight leg) the bright neon colors, and Converse - If only I had saved them!

Quincie wears my clothes, and sometimes, I wear hers. Shoes, we always share. Sometimes I watch her sleep and the same feelings of awe and love overwhelm me as they did that first night when she slept next to me in the hospital bed. She is my sweet, little, blue-eyed, angel baby.

A friend asked me the other day if my kids were always this good. I said, "No, they were horrid babies." They were cute and wonderful, and really, really horrid. Ryker had colic, in the extreme. He ate at least every 2 hours and threw up constantly. He was always hungry, and always needed attention. He grew fast, and was mobile really early. He walked at 10 months. We put a lock on the fridge. He liked to help himself to the jug of milk. He broke those baby proofing cabinet locks, and got into everything. He had no fear, and was intensely curious. He loved people and would eat just about anything. He was happy most of the time, but you had to watch him constantly.

Quincie was different. She just cried... and cried... for no apparent reason... for days. She wanted no one but me, and would have rather starved than drink from a bottle. Her nick name was Fussalina. We held family prayers begging God to make her stop crying. I worked with her on my lap a lot that first year. She was in no hurry to walk and I never baby proofed the house for her. She was content to sit next to me and watch Ryker run around and do crazy things to entertain her.

It was hard to get much done with Fussalina and Destructo Boy, but somehow we managed. Carl worked nights and I worked days, and neither of us slept much. Those days went by so quickly and every year, the kids got easier and easier.

The two of them have always been great friends. They have never had a physical fight, not so much as a push or a hit. The craziest trouble has always been a team effort. Whereever they went, he has always looked out for her. This year is the first year he won't be on campus with her. It makes me a little nervous. I like them together, especially when they are not with me. I can't remember the last time either of them got in trouble and had to be punished. It's been a long, long time. They are awesome kids and I am a lucky mom!

There were so many good times, so many funny things, and so much love. I really like being the mom of Ryker and Quincie. They are super awesome kids. If I could go back and do it all again, I would. I wouldn't want to change a thing, except to enjoy each moment more. The good, the bad, the crazy, the hard, the fun, the silly, the messy and the painful. I would do it all again. In a heartbeat.