Ready

My oldest son graduated high school yesterday.

And I'm still trying to wrap my head around it.

So many memories running through my head, of all the firsts...and now lasts.

I realized this morning that Thursday was the last day I'd ever make Ryder breakfast and send him off to school.

I wish I would have spent more time talking to him that morning about life instead of moving right on to getting ready for work.

Wait...who am I kidding?

He hated it when I tried to talk to him in the mornings. Always told me "It's 6:30 in the morning mom, why do you have to ask me so many questions?"

The reality of what happened?

I handed him his breakfast, he thanked me, wolfed it down, and put his plate in the sink.

When the boys left for school, he gave me a really nice hug goodbye as we briefly talked about getting ready for graduation. Then he was out the door. And that was good.

I wish...

I should have...

I could have...

We didn't...

It's a weird mix of emotions. Letting these kids go off into the world.

Trying hard not to be afraid for them.

Letting the excitement for them and all of the adventures they have ahead make us smile.

Hoping that we taught them a thing or two about making good choices.

Praying that we gave them at least a few skills to help them figure things out on their own.

They're going to go out in the world now and experience it. Without us there to watch over them.

They're going to mess up more than a few times along the way.

Just like we did.

I always say parenting is by far the hardest job I have ever had.

There's no rulebook or instruction manual. No guidelines on what consequences to impose for each situation.

We get to navigate and set the rules based on what works for us and our family.

And there's no yearly performance evaluation that tells us how well we are doing either.

But there are signs. And reasons for us not to spend so much time looking back at the things we could have/should have/wish we'd done.

I'm so proud of this boy. Scratch that...I'm so proud of this young man.

This amazing, strong in both body and mind, thoughtful, kind, impulsive, assertive, sometimes a little bit cocky, super creative, young man.

I'm proud of how he stepped into a leadership role at school with his track team and the heartfelt things they had to say about him.

I'm proud of how he's worked hard to excel academically and athletically.

I'm proud of how he's risen above some really tough things the last three years.

I'm proud of the unsolicited feedback I get from my friends and his teachers about what a polite, kind young man he is.

And I'm already proud of how he's going to find his way at college in the fall.

He often tells me that he has it all under control. That I should just let him take care of it and not worry.

I then ask him if he knows who he's talking to 😉

I, of course, still try to offer my ideas, and sometimes get frustrated when he doesn't do it how I would do it.

We've battled more than a few times.

And he's surprised me more than a few times.

After all of these years, I think he's ready.

Ready to be out on his own.

Ready to not have any more questions at 6:30 a.m. (at least from mom).

Ready to try a whole bunch of new things.

Ready to continue growing into that amazing man he's going to be.

I'm not sure I'm ready; that might take a little while yet.

I just hope he knows how much I love him.

And that I'm always here, for the good stuff and the bad.

Always.