No One Ever Told Me About "The Lasts"

Pretty soon the training wheels will be a thing of the past too.

I’m hyper aware of how much my baby isn’t a baby anymore.  As I’m directing the morning production of “Let’s make it to the bus stop without having to run!”, my youngest groggily stumbles into the kitchen and raises his arms for the big morning squeeze that wakes him up for the day.  At 4, he can best be described as an afternoon person.  But that morning hug from mom is pretty much all he needs from me these days. 

I set him down and ask what he wants for breakfast as he gathers his own cup, bowl and spoon.  “Cheerios, please.” followed by a “I said pleeeaaassseee!” because I told him it’s always important to say please and he wants me to notice that he did.

He pours his own milk and cereal like a big boy, gobbles his cereal and when done announces he’s going to get dressed, all while I’m still trying to get the other three out the door. 

A little voice in my head tells me those must-have morning hugs won’t last.  Pretty soon my youngest will be cast in the off-to-school production and the “I can’t find my library book!” panic will eat into the hugging time. My heart breaks a bit thinking of it.

No one ever told me about “the lasts”.  Every baby book only ever talks about the firsts.  The first poop, tooth, word, sit, roll, crawl, walk, and on, and on, and on.

 As the kids get older you start to realize their firsts are your lasts. Their first time getting dressed themselves is almost your last time helping them, their first shower is your last bathtime fun, the first time you forget to do the silly bedtime tuck in routine and they forget to remind you is the day after the last and you rarely go back. Sigh. Most of the lasts signal the end of a routine and special little daily moments parents share with their kids.

The impact of my older kids’ lasts, while still bittersweet, were not as profound as my youngest’s.  With the others, there was always someone still working through their exciting baby firsts to make the “lasts” of the others seem less final.

Now I find myself having changed my last diaper, given my last bath, dressed my last toddler and frantically looked for my last pacifier or blanket at bedtime. Those moments went without the fanfare of the “firsts”, there was no proud documentation in the baby books, probably, because they sneak by so slowly.  It feels like you’ll never change your last diaper until you finally realize you have, three days later.

The cruelest part of parenting is that you teach your children to do without you.  And while there’s some days their independence can’t happen soon enough, most days it’s hard to imagine them not needing you… and you not being the most important person in their life.  And while I can’t stop them from growing up and doing for themselves, now that I’ve realized the significance of “the lasts”, I’m going to watch for them, and take a minute to mostly celebrate them, and maybe mourn them, just a little, while I wait for the next big kid firsts to happen.