I thought I was prepared for motherhood. I started babysitting in my preteens. My sister had children before I was even married. Children are no stranger to me. I have changed diapers and mixed bottles.
Prior to my kiddos, I worked at an agency that had clients with the Arkansas Department of Human Services. During my time there, I helped develop a book helping educate pregnant mothers about their health and their babies’ health. I also worked on an account where we helped educate parents about the importance of well-child checkups. Lastly, I helped a colleague on an account where we helped educate parents about how to choose a childcare provider.
Needless to say, I was educated.
I was probably as prepared as a person could get, but I was not prepared for this.
I was not prepared to rearrange my entire life around a tiny human and being okay with it.
I was not prepared for how much I love him.
I was not prepared to worry as much as I do.
I was not prepared to discipline.
I was not prepared to have this much pride for another human being.
I was not prepared to say, “where did the time go?”
My little boy turned 4 years old this week. I have 1 year left before he’s no longer a toddler. I have 9 years left before he is a teenager. I have 10 years before he goes to high school. I have 12 years before he gets his driver’s license. I have 14 years before he’s an adult.
I’m not prepared for him to grow up.
Happy Birthday Charlie!