I didn't think it was possible, but my heart grew a little more, with the love and pride I have for my children, this weekend. It was a different kind of pride, something other than watching your babies first steps, or accomplishing the potty, but magical and heart swelling, just the same.
Never in my vision of being a Mother, did I imagine myself, waking up early Saturday morning, forcing myself to stomach all of 3 bits of oatmeal, and nervously fueling my already anxious self, with cup after cup, after cup of coffee, preparing for a Karate tournament, that my sweet little boy, would be competing in.
I've always been a proud mother, one that, I don't necessarily feel I need to compare milestone accomplishment stories, with every other mothers in a competitive way, but there was no wiping the grin off my face Saturday and I was this close to jumping up from my seat, after Wesley's match was over and yelling, "That's my baby! The one right there… see the one with the shy smiling and genuine green eyes? Yep, I'm his Mumma and he's mine, mine, mine!"
The tightness in my chest, I feel, whenever I entertain the thought of my babies getting older, is held at bay, by my complete emotional avoidance on the subject. But this weekend, without me standing by his side, whispering words of encouragement into his ear, Wesley stood in that ring, stance, ready to fight, and made us proud… not by winning, but by focusing on his task, without the comfort of a quick last minute hand to squeeze in 'I love you's and performing with no hesitation… without Nate or I ...and did great.
At that moment, I realized, this growing up thing, is happing whether I want it, like it, acknowledge it, or not. Honestly, I'm not ready, but I'm working on getting there, because my fears of having a house be anything than what it is right now, isn't worth missing out on all the great unforeseen life experiences, that this whole growing up thing, has to offer.
This kind of proud might be different, but it is all the same kind of great.