Change is a comin!

Something I found out about myself is that I don’t like anything to be out of the ordinary. I would like it if I could keep all my schedules as they always have been. The same television shows with even better twists and turns and things like that, no one leaving no one coming no one doing anything that isn’t the same as they did yesterday. With the exception of the fact that I wish that my husband was here a lot more- but making the same money as he always does.
I would like us to stay the same age. I would like Booga to stay the same age as he is right now and I would like everything to go on just as it has since I became adjusted to this whole course of routine of the here and now.
Don’t make me change this routine again…that’s too painful. Part of my children becoming adults is that whole changing thing and every time they’ve changed it’s been painful and hard. Every time they’ve left and every time the cycle of them changing from my child to an individual adult in the world has been as painful as a dull rusty knife.
When my children were small I couldn’t wait until they were older and less of a concern, and when they got to be older and less of a concern I missed the little ones they were and wished I could go back there just so I could do over my mistakes and cherish them a little more as the babies they were.
When I dream of my children they are little children. In my dreams they are little ones. Maybe this is because they were little for so long? Or maybe because I don’t want to let go of that special sparkling time in their lives and how much better it could have been if they had been little children in this time in mine and my husbands life when we are more centered and more settled? But then who is to say we would have even had children if this had been the case or if I would have even had the same children? Because I would want my children that I have now- I’ve never wanted anyone else’s children. Even before birth I felt a kinship with my children that far surpassed any relationship with the exception of my mother and my husband.
And here it is, the precipice of my last child becoming an adult. He’s speeding towards it like a locomotive. He’s pulling away from my hand with little concern about my feelings in the whole matter. Because that’s the way kids are. They can’t care how you feel about their own adulthood, because if they do, well, then they are too worried about how you’ll feel about them no longer being your baby.
Why is it that we want to hold that hand just a bit longer?
Is it because we are concerned about how our child will fare in the world or is it this selfish need for the world to go on as it has for the past few months or years? Is this our need for sameness-for our routine not to change? What is it?
It’s painful and like movies where the hero or heroine is having a hard time just before things turn and all turn out fine. I always want to quickly move through their conflict in their lives and get to the happy ending where you think that this is the way it is going to go on from now on. You know, everyone settled and happy and the world spinning and babies laughing and birds singing and the sun shining and your children happily playing at your feet. That sort of scenario, you know it, it’s gone on forever. However, growing happens and things do change. This is part of life and if it stopped then we really couldn’t call ourselves alive…We’d just be existing- just existing in the world. Wouldn’t we? Not actually what you could call living.