Letting go

Perusing Facebook the other day, I came across a friend's update which struck me hard. Jon recently took his son Rhys, aged 4ish, to school and was shocked when Rhys refused to hold his hand once they had arrived at school. Up until recently, Rhys had wanted to hold Jon's hand all the way to the classroom.

I'm dreading the day when this scenario plays out for me - even though I know I can't postpone the inevitable. Kael has finally accepted my love (trust me, it took a long time)and before I know it, he'll be rejecting it again. One of the toughest parts of parenting must be letting go.

Glancing at my most recent post in May, I just can't believe the difference in Chloe over a three month period. From a helpless little baby to a spunky cruiser who is already on the verge of walking. They grow up ridiculously fast.

Chloe is scooting around, blabbing away and basically trying to mimic everything her big brother does. Kael had been fine with the idea of having a little sister until he realized that she could Diana crawl into his room,snatch one of his trains and shove it in her mouth. Suddenly, having a lil' sis wasn't so cool as it was threatening. "Chloe, Chloe, NO!!!" has been repeated more times than I care to remember these last few weeks.

I'm happy to report that he's starting to come around - sort of. Some things are just non-negotiable I guess (and I can understand that) but at least he's stopped smacking her if she comes near. Baby steps...

I suppose letting go is tough no matter the age. We want to hold on to the things that are dear to us so badly, whether it's our favourite toy or our child's love and attention, because we're scared we'll lose it forever.

I know I'm going to have to let go at some point. Maybe it's good that I'm aware of it, but somehow I doubt it's going to make it any easier. That's why I'm trying to spend as much time with my children as I can, while I can, before I'm being asked to let go of their hands as we approach the school entrance.