“Give Me Some Privacy, Mom!”


I finally heard the words I never thought I would hear. (Okay, I knew I would hear them, but I didn’t want to.)

“Give me some privacy, mom!”

You know exactly what I was thinking . . . I literally BIRTHED you. I don’t need to give you privacy. But, I’m wrong — he does need privacy.

I just didn’t know it would come this soon. My son is now eight years old, going into the third grade, and is pretty much a teenager. If you know, you know.

So, here’s what’s really happening:

He’s gaining independence. He’s gaining a sense of his own self. And he’s gaining the knowledge that he is a boy, which is different from a woman.

(Whew, my head is spinning.)

He hates going into the women’s bathroom when we are out and about. He practically refuses. But me being a mom of a child in 2022, I don’t let him go alone.

He had a really difficult time at his annual doctor’s appointment this year. He did not want his doctor to see his underwear.

And he even gives me “the look” when I happen to see him changing clothes.

All of this being said, the point of my rant is to say this:

My little boy is growing up. Like, for real. I know, I know. “They grow up too quickly.” (Which is an annoying but true statement.)

But I remind myself that even though he is gaining independence in his own body, he will always need me in his mind. He will always need to know that I love him. He will always need to hear me say I am proud of him. We will forever make inside jokes with each other about how cute our cat is. And he will forever be my baby boy.

So, as he grows up and changes in physical and mental ways, I have to remind myself that he is a brave, independent boy. And letting him be independent is the hardest part of being a mom. Watching him grow into a kid, and then into a young man, is so rewarding and so heavy at the same time.

Thankfully, I have a five-year-old in the mix, too. This is the amazing thing about having kids — when you know one is growing up, you cherish the time you have with the younger child. So although I encourage my five-year-old to change his own clothes and dry himself off after a warm bath, I will gladly help him with these tasks. Because just as one of them is growing up and needing my help less and less, the other is right where I want him.

(Come back to me in three years and ask how I’m feeling. I can’t promise I’ll be okay with my babies being grown. But for now, I’ll give my son his privacy.)