Regrets

Parenting is interesting. In many ways it feels like I blinked, and my kids were grown. Certainly, it can feel that way. It all goes so fast. Living in it, the days felt long, so I did not cherish them like I wished I would have.

As I was preparing for my son’s graduation party, I was avoiding doing the picture boards and gathering photos for a video. That may sound strange, but I was not ready to have that emotional breakdown that I knew would go hand and hand when I took a trip down memory lane.

When my oldest son graduated, I cried A LOT in the days leading up to the college drop-off. It was all new to me, and it felt like I was letting him go and he would never come back. It was physically painful. Necessary but painful.

This time, things are different because I know they come back. When they do it is different, but it is not all bad. It’s fun to see how my son has grown and changed during his college years. I enjoy the more adult conversations with him.

This time, there have been tears, but it is really random. The strangest things make me cry. The things that spark a memory come from out of nowhere. My husband and I were shopping the other day, and there were two small little guys dressed in their soccer uniforms and cleats, begging for their dad to buy them a toy. We looked at each other and just smiled. We didn’t have to say a word. We were both reminiscing on a time when that was us. My heart hurt, and there I was teary eyed in the middle of a store.

I know I can’t change the years of raising my boys, but when I look back there are two things that stand out to me that I would have done a little differently. I could find many micro-regrets, but these are two big ones that stand out for me.

First, I would have let more things go. My personality is such that I have a need for things to be tidy and just so. That makes me feel happy and relaxed. Having two boys, that was just a never-ending energy suck, trying to keep everything just so. I wish I could have told myself to chill out and to save my precious energy. The boys didn’t care if our house was perfection; in fact, it only stressed them out.

Now, as the school days are wrapping up, I look at my son’s little “nest” that he has built on the end table in our living room. That is where a calculus book, and some other book that I probably couldn’t even begin to make sense of, have lived for the past several months, along with an ever-increasing stack of papers and random items of his. At first, it annoyed me – the mess. Now, I know I am going to miss his little study nest when it is all cleaned up. It will feel empty. Cue the tears.

The other thing I would change is my biggest regret as their mom. When my boys were young, I avoided a lot of activities with them because I was not like the other moms. My disability made me different.

I began to fear that my boys’ classmates would somehow see my disability and shy away from wanting to be their friend. I knew from growing up disabled how cruel some kids can be. I feared I would make things hard on them by coming to class parties or volunteering at school events. It was easy to avoid; as a working mom, I genuinely had the excuse.

I regret that I missed a teaching opportunity for their classmates. I could have made a difference where a difference needs to be made. I regret it. Immensely. I let fear win.

The thing with regret is that you cannot go back and fix it how you wished it could have been. You can talk about it though, and the boys and I have had the conversation about my regrets surrounding those days.

I don’t sit around and beat myself up about it, but it does cross my mind, and I always feel that pang of regret when I think about that.

Mostly, I do not live with regrets about being their mom. I know I was doing my best navigating motherhood with a disability.

I am just so happy that my husband and I were blessed to raise two amazing young men. I very much look forward to watching them grow into who they were made to be, from my new view.

Until next time …

Amy Shinneman is a former National Ambassador for the Muscular Dystrophy Association, disability blogger, freelance writer, wife, and mom of two boys. You can find her blog at humblycourageous.com and reach her on Instagram @ashinneman.