I keep thinking about how slowly we drove her home from the hospital. Were people honking at us as we rolled down Telegraph Avenue at 10 mph? To our astonishment, the medical professionals had released her into our care. We had gone to great lengths to make sure the carseat was properly installed. She was showing no signs of distress. But somehow I remember feeling like we couldn’t be gentle enough, couldn’t go slowly enough. It wasn’t that we thought she would break exactly, or even that she was fragile; it felt like our gingerly speed was more about us—like we were going so slowly because we were trying to give our metaphysical selves time to catch up to this new world we had just birthed.
I will tell you a funny story, which doesn't exactly relate to your beautiful essay, but it did make me think of it. My kids are a little over four years apart, which meant that the habit many of us develop when our children are babies and then toddlers of talking about ourselves in the third person all the time, "Mommy is doing this. Mommy will do that after she's done doing the other.", got reignited for kid #2 just as kid#1 was aging out. Which meant I talked like that regularly for a long time. Our conversations were otherwise fairly normal. I always talked to my kids like people who just happened to be my kids, but for such a long time there only about myself in the third person.
Until the day that my youngest turned to me (they were maybe 5 or 6), and deadpanned, "I know who you are, Mommy." Bwahahahahahahahaha. This parenting business is the most delicious exercise in humility.
Oops, lost the message. This lyrical ode to journey is also a tribute to your deep consciousness of being a mother. We should all be blessed with such perspective on our children.
I have three boys, but still! You so beautifully capture that bittersweet feeling of seeing them change, knowing you’re on the brink of a new phase, and trying to navigate your own life changes at the same time. Thank you so much. Loved this.
Long time fan, and SF mom of two "girls" (17 & 19) here. I love your writing so much -- playful, tender, and thoughtful in a way that so often soothes me.
Welcome to double digits! From this amusing parasocial place in me, I can't hold back how much I hope you will give yourself the gift of watching a 2011 documentary--I'm squirmy and giddy with 'go watch it right now!' vibes. It's called, I Am Eleven, about kids of that age around the world. Have you seen before? I imagine you would love watching it together as a family. Yeah, you could wait until next year when your daughter turns 11. But if you even watch the trailer right now, you won't want to wait. :)
Beautifully written from your loving heart. I treasure the two grown individuals who "came on my bus" so many years ago. My son helped me grow up. I learned to put the needs of a tiny baby boy ahead of my own selfish wants. My daughter taught me to laugh. Today, I tell my son and daughter, "You owe me nothing. You have given me smiles, laughter, challenges, tears, worries, joys, and fulness of life." Being a mother then a grandmother, and finally, a great-grandmother continue to be wonderful gifts to me. I read in your words about the treasure that grows between your heart and your daughter's. Value each moment.
One moment in the middle of the Dartmouth College "caf" while waiting forever to pay for our lunches, my then 4 year old son threw himself on the floor and screamed. Shocked I looked to my then 16 year old son for anything he could offer. Watching his little brother with a look of awe, he told me, "That looks so great!" I would have been stunned by his comment had that thought not flashed through my mind, too. I was 42 and when I relayed this episode to my doctor, she simply informed me we were all in similar developmental stages. Thirty years later, I treasure that memory as does my older son. Not much like your lovely story, but precious just the same.
I wish it were easier to figure out how we update our operating systems at key life moments. I’m sure there are a wealth of beautiful rituals out there. Love this capture so much, it’s layered with so much love, observation, kindness and acceptance. Thanks for choosing this milestone and sharing your wisdom with us all. Xoxoxo
Courtney, this is one of the most probing and perceptive pieces on mother and daughterhood I have ever read. I will be sharing with my son and daughter-in-law whose sweet Julia just turned 11 yesterday. Nature has timed things so exquisitely that mothers and their daughters are frequently in big transitions at the same time. I have now been through at least three of these, each with its own bittersweetness. On Sunday I will be holding my 96-year-old mother's wrinkled and spotted hand as she goes over thresholds that aren't even. Last week 10-year-old Julia still took my hand into her small, slim one as we walked across the parking lot.
This is so beautiful. Thank you again for putting to words all these complicated feelings. I discovered the examined family during the pandemic and my kids are about five years younger than yours. I feel like you are a guide to help me anticipate and process the big feelings of motherhood. It's an absolute treasure. Thank you
We have two sons, three granddaughters and one grandson. Your description of how changing among them occurs brings back a flood of memories over my 62 years of parenting as well as immense gratification . There’s no experience like it and you express it exquisitely. Thanks as always for your eloquence! DD
I let so many of your posts go by without telling you how moved I am by your words and insights. You speak to my heart so often. I want to start the habit of letting you know. I too learned so much about myself from my kids and now grandkids. Thanks for sharing yourself in such a big way. Laurie
Totally resonate with the moment of realizing you’re chattering for the baby’s language development and the kid doesn’t need it or want it right then haha.
Wow... your writing is so captivating. I read every word. The way you describe the her and the changes from birth to now, the change in you as well as her mother. I love the “loving silence” and “companionable quiet”. No fluff, so much good language. Thanks for sharing with us
I will tell you a funny story, which doesn't exactly relate to your beautiful essay, but it did make me think of it. My kids are a little over four years apart, which meant that the habit many of us develop when our children are babies and then toddlers of talking about ourselves in the third person all the time, "Mommy is doing this. Mommy will do that after she's done doing the other.", got reignited for kid #2 just as kid#1 was aging out. Which meant I talked like that regularly for a long time. Our conversations were otherwise fairly normal. I always talked to my kids like people who just happened to be my kids, but for such a long time there only about myself in the third person.
Until the day that my youngest turned to me (they were maybe 5 or 6), and deadpanned, "I know who you are, Mommy." Bwahahahahahahahaha. This parenting business is the most delicious exercise in humility.
Ha! Love this. Kids are brutal and so kind all at the same time.
Oops, lost the message. This lyrical ode to journey is also a tribute to your deep consciousness of being a mother. We should all be blessed with such perspective on our children.
I have three boys, but still! You so beautifully capture that bittersweet feeling of seeing them change, knowing you’re on the brink of a new phase, and trying to navigate your own life changes at the same time. Thank you so much. Loved this.
Long time fan, and SF mom of two "girls" (17 & 19) here. I love your writing so much -- playful, tender, and thoughtful in a way that so often soothes me.
Welcome to double digits! From this amusing parasocial place in me, I can't hold back how much I hope you will give yourself the gift of watching a 2011 documentary--I'm squirmy and giddy with 'go watch it right now!' vibes. It's called, I Am Eleven, about kids of that age around the world. Have you seen before? I imagine you would love watching it together as a family. Yeah, you could wait until next year when your daughter turns 11. But if you even watch the trailer right now, you won't want to wait. :)
I haven't seen this! And can't wait. Thank you for the recommendation.
Beautifully written from your loving heart. I treasure the two grown individuals who "came on my bus" so many years ago. My son helped me grow up. I learned to put the needs of a tiny baby boy ahead of my own selfish wants. My daughter taught me to laugh. Today, I tell my son and daughter, "You owe me nothing. You have given me smiles, laughter, challenges, tears, worries, joys, and fulness of life." Being a mother then a grandmother, and finally, a great-grandmother continue to be wonderful gifts to me. I read in your words about the treasure that grows between your heart and your daughter's. Value each moment.
Thank you Courtney.
One moment in the middle of the Dartmouth College "caf" while waiting forever to pay for our lunches, my then 4 year old son threw himself on the floor and screamed. Shocked I looked to my then 16 year old son for anything he could offer. Watching his little brother with a look of awe, he told me, "That looks so great!" I would have been stunned by his comment had that thought not flashed through my mind, too. I was 42 and when I relayed this episode to my doctor, she simply informed me we were all in similar developmental stages. Thirty years later, I treasure that memory as does my older son. Not much like your lovely story, but precious just the same.
I wish it were easier to figure out how we update our operating systems at key life moments. I’m sure there are a wealth of beautiful rituals out there. Love this capture so much, it’s layered with so much love, observation, kindness and acceptance. Thanks for choosing this milestone and sharing your wisdom with us all. Xoxoxo
Courtney, this is one of the most probing and perceptive pieces on mother and daughterhood I have ever read. I will be sharing with my son and daughter-in-law whose sweet Julia just turned 11 yesterday. Nature has timed things so exquisitely that mothers and their daughters are frequently in big transitions at the same time. I have now been through at least three of these, each with its own bittersweetness. On Sunday I will be holding my 96-year-old mother's wrinkled and spotted hand as she goes over thresholds that aren't even. Last week 10-year-old Julia still took my hand into her small, slim one as we walked across the parking lot.
Oh Shirley, this is so beautiful. Thinking of you in the thin time and place you are navigating.
This is so beautiful. Thank you again for putting to words all these complicated feelings. I discovered the examined family during the pandemic and my kids are about five years younger than yours. I feel like you are a guide to help me anticipate and process the big feelings of motherhood. It's an absolute treasure. Thank you
That's so meaningful to me. Thank you Csilla.
This is very beautiful. Happy Mid to you both!
We have two sons, three granddaughters and one grandson. Your description of how changing among them occurs brings back a flood of memories over my 62 years of parenting as well as immense gratification . There’s no experience like it and you express it exquisitely. Thanks as always for your eloquence! DD
I let so many of your posts go by without telling you how moved I am by your words and insights. You speak to my heart so often. I want to start the habit of letting you know. I too learned so much about myself from my kids and now grandkids. Thanks for sharing yourself in such a big way. Laurie
Laurie! You're the best. Thank you thank you.
Totally resonate with the moment of realizing you’re chattering for the baby’s language development and the kid doesn’t need it or want it right then haha.
Wow... your writing is so captivating. I read every word. The way you describe the her and the changes from birth to now, the change in you as well as her mother. I love the “loving silence” and “companionable quiet”. No fluff, so much good language. Thanks for sharing with us
This is beautiful- thanks so much for sharing!! Makes me think of all the special moments with me 8 and almost 5 year old
Wonderful piece. Thank you for putting words to some of the same/shared feelings. How lucky you are to have each other.