It’s no secret that I adore Sherri and her blog, Old Tweener.
Sherri is the mother I hope to be someday and she writes the way I hope to write someday. Her words are moving and eloquent, pull at my heart strings and make me appreciate every moment I have right now with Lucas. She reminds me that childhood is fleeting and children grow up way too fast.
I am thankful that I can call Sherri a friend and I am so pleased to have her here today with a beautiful letter to herself on the day she became a mother.
May 28, 1994
Dear Sherri,
Today was an amazing day in your life: the day you became a mother for the first time. We haven’t met yet, but we have a lot to talk about.
You see, I am the mother you will be after almost 18 years of parenting.
That baby boy in your arms right now seems so fragile, so helpless, and incredibly needy. Don’t worry; you’ll figure him out pretty quickly. In time, you will get to know him so well that you can almost read his mind.
Until he’s a teenager, anyway.
Once he starts talking, he will rarely stop. In fact, many of your days with him will seem like one very long question. But please listen to him, answer his questions as best you can, and really try to soak up these moments when he’s so chatty and inquisitive.
Even when you want to stock up on earplugs and convince him that the dog is smart enough to answer his science questions.
Because when he moves on to college one day his words will be few. A funny text every few days, maybe a phone call on Sundays; his voice deep and full of joy.
And you will be glad you listened when you did.
Kiss him and hug him; tickle his little feet and hold his chubby little hands. Blow some raspberries on his round little tummy and nibble on his soft baby neck.
Once he’s too old for this you will wish you’d done it more.
When he’s older, hugs will be replaced by high-fives and pats on the back, at least in public.
Those eighteen years will pass in a heartbeat or two.
Today in the hospital, as you hold that sweet little bundle in your arms I realize it’s hard to understand this part. But your job as his mother is to make yourself obsolete. Nurture him, teach him, and love him relentlessly.
But prepare to let him go.
And then do it.
Because when you do send him off to college one day he will be fine on his own. He will be able to solve his own problems; right his wrongs, make decisions, and find his own way.
And he’ll be so ready for it.
You will be fine, too…trust me, I know this for a fact now.
So get back to learning how to be a mother, how to read his cries, and what he needs from you. Be patient because it’s going to take some time.
But it’s going to seem like it took no time at all.
Love,
Sherri
