Growing up is hard on kids too

As I maneuvered through the labyrinth of Legos and My Little Pony dolls to get to my daughter’s bed the other night, I reminded myself to tell her to clean her room. But, as I stood at the door about to leave, I caught her sleeping bag laid out by her bed, her three little unicorns tucked in safely to sleep. Knowing that at seven-going-on-eight these moments are fleeting, tears welled in my eyes. Because growing up is hard—not only for parents, but for kids too.

My sons are twelve and ten, and they have already replaced their Hot Wheels for Madden. She’s my last, and the days with her feel ephemeral, constantly moving. No matter how hard I try to catch it, her childhood is slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. 

Related: Motherhood is holding on, and then one day letting go 

Wanting her to move forward while also wanting her to stay in the past makes parenthood so bittersweet. But I recently realized, my children feel this too—the push and pull between having to grow up and wanting to stay the same.

The other morning, without any direction from me, my daughter lugged a huge bag of stuffed animals to my room.

“I’m done with these,” she said through a toothless smile.

My eyes widened in surprise. Had it happened already? Was she already moving onto the next realm? Was she going to ask for an iPhone for Christmas?

Related: Is it OK to go through your kid’s phone?

“Are you sure?” I asked while looking at the remnants of her childhood that she wanted to part with. “What about this one? Are you sure you want to give her away?” I held up a doll she had since infancy. 

She took the doll from me and held it close to her heart. Tears welled up in her eyes, falling onto her freckled cheeks.

“I don’t know,” she said. The words were barely audible over her sniffles.

I scooped her into my arms and rocked her back and forth like I did when she was first born. She stared into my face, her eyes and cheeks flushed red from crying. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready to say goodbye to her,” she said. My heart broke into a thousand pieces at the realization that she was conflicted about her growing up too.

Related: This viral Michael Buble video has parents everywhere crying about our kids growing up 

“It’s OK. Growing up is hard,” I said. I smoothed back her hair and kissed her forehead, and she snuggled against my chest.

“I just don’t know if I want to give up my things,” she said. Her emotional reaction told me she knew that packing up her childhood toys meant more than just decluttering my daughter’s room. She knew that those toys were a connection and a bridge to her childhood, and as they dissipate and get passed down to her younger cousins, it signifies that she is changing and her place in the world is changing.

She’s aware of exactly what it means to be growing up, and it’s scary for her too. I held her close for a long time, her fingers entwined with mine, and we went through the bag she assembled together. I told her she could hold onto anything she wanted for as long as she wanted, but that it’s OK if she feels like she’s ready to let some things go (even if I’m not ready for that to happen). 

I can’t let my nostalgia for the past keep them from moving forward, even though growing up is hard.

Later that day, my husband messaged that my twelve-year-old son said he had Googled and found out Santa Claus isn’t real. I had tried to have that conversation with him myself when he started middle school, but he said he didn’t care what I said he believed. But suddenly, on the precipice of his teenage years, he couldn’t hide behind the curtain of his childhood anymore. That time is ending even if he doesn’t want it to.

This has been a hard thing for him to accept. When we went to McDonald’s recently, my son looked at the play area with excitement in his eyes, but then became self-conscious of his age. He knows he’s becoming too big to play. Not willing to concede, he read the sign and said enthusiastically, “It says under twelve can play. I can have one last go before I’m too old.” I replied, “Honey, be carefree as long as you want. Go and play.” And I watched with tears in my eyes, not because it might be his last time, but because he didn’t want it to be.

Related: Joanna Gaines’ Instagram post totally nails how bittersweet it is watching your kids grow up

Watching your kids grow up can be so hard. I’m recognizing that leaving behind their childhood is hard for them to process. They are justifiably conflicted to be standing with one leg in their childhood and one leg inching beyond. They have to navigate unfamiliar territory, going from idyllic youth to a world with expectations and obligations. I want to keep them insulated and safe for as long as I can. I want them to play with their Legos and unicorns forever.

But I can’t let my nostalgia for the past keep them from moving forward, even though growing up is hard. My duty as a parent is to prepare them for what comes next, and to make sure they feel confident to move onto the next phase when the time is ready. But I also need to talk to them about how they feel about growing up. I’m not the only one nervous and apprehensive. I told my children we will take these next steps together, charting their unfolding future. Our family will always be their constant. They can always plant their anchor at our door.