Not ready yet?

“I’m not ready yet,” he said, looking at me with tears in his eyes still, a sad expression on his face. The tears had subsided and his eyes were getting less sad with each passing hour. I knew he was still sad and unsure, but he was getting there. Unsure at the thought of it all. That I was leaving. That he’d have to stay.

Earlier when the tears were hot and the pleading was high, I encouraged him.
“You can do this, love!”

He was much less sure.

I wavered, but I didn’t want him to believe it was something he couldn’t do. I wanted him to know, yes indeed he totally could.

I ruffled his hair, kissed the top of his head, cupped his wet cheeks. “It’s just a muscle you haven’t used in a while! But you can do this,” I said.

“What do you mean, ‘muscle’?” he questioned. I could see the wheels turning in his brain. Muscles, and mommy leaving. What did they have to do with each other?

“You’re just not used to it,” I said. “You used to do it when you were little. You went with nana most afternoons while I went to work for a bit. You loved it, and nana loved it. You are so special to her! Now you’re just not used to it. You haven’t used that muscle in a while. But you can do it darling!”

He thought about it. Still unsure.

“It’s going to be alright, I promise. You are safe and you have everything you need. I’ll just be gone for a little while and then I’ll be home! You’ll see. You’ll even have a nice time.”

Later as we got closer to the time for me to go, his smile had a bit easier, but he was still hesitant. He was still unsure. I mentioned out loud how I had to go to the class and help teach, and had to act something out something in front of the class. I was a bit nervous. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” I said to him.

“Oh you’re ready mama.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Well good,” I said with a slow smile and deliberate wink, “because you’re ready too!!”

🙌🏻🫶🏻

He couldn’t help but smile back at me. I had used his same tender excuse right back at him. Flipping the script, back to truth. Urging him, gently nudging him from discomfort to ability. Even if it felt uncomfortable at first.

When I got home later and he happily greeted me at the door, relaying some lovely “old wives tale” his nana had taught him while I was gone, just as a nana should, I could see that all was well. Better than well.

I asked how his muscles were and he flashed his big, dimpled smile. He had exercised his muscles. They were bigger now, and so was his smile. Mine too.

We all were made to be uncomfortable. Else we would have stayed little tiny babies, needing only warm milk and soft snuggles. Parenthood is hard. Growing up is hard. Entrepreneurship is hard. Life is hard. But we were built to grow in the hard, because of it, right alongside it, and through it.

And now here we both were, together, like nothing had changed, and yet. It always is. Changing, and for the better, as much as we’ll allow. Always, for the better.

Some say, “Go out for adventure, come home for love.” Poppycock, I say. I think it’s Home for adventure AND for love. Then, out into the world for both. 🫶🏻✨

So, if you, like my son or like myself, wonder if you’re ready yet, you can remember this. Trust and know, that if you’re given the chance to try, chances are, you probably are ready. Even if it’s uncomfortable. Take a leap and let yourself fly.