One Day, You Realize Things Have Changed
I don’t think anyone really prepares you for this part of motherhood.
When your kids are little, they need you for practically everything. You feed them, dress them, remind them to brush their teeth, pack their bags, look for their missing shoes, help with homework, settle arguments, and somehow know where every single thing in the house is.
Then one day, you look around and realize they don’t need you in quite the same way anymore.
That’s where I am now.
Ykaie is already in college at UP Diliman, and honestly, it still feels a little surreal to say that. It seems like just yesterday I was worrying about her school supplies, checking her homework, and making sure she had everything she needed for another school day. Now we’re talking about college schedules, transportation, requirements, friends, responsibilities, and the decisions she has to make for herself.
Meanwhile, Twinkle is still in a younger stage and has plenty of things she needs Mommy for.
So I’m experiencing two very different versions of motherhood at the same time. One daughter is learning how to navigate college and become more independent, while the other is still growing up right here beside me.
And it’s making me think a lot about how motherhood changes as our children grow.
When They Were Little, I Was the Answer
When the girls were younger, I was usually the first person they called.
“Mommy, where is this?”
“Mommy, can you help me?”
“Mommy, I’m hungry.”
“Mommy, I don’t know how to do this.”
“Mommy, look!”
There was always something. And while it could be exhausting — and believe me, there were days when I wanted five minutes of peace — it also gave me a very clear sense of purpose.
I was needed. Sometimes desperately needed.
I knew that if something went wrong, they would come looking for me. As tiring as that stage could be, there was something comforting about it too.
Then They Start Figuring Things Out on Their Own
The transition doesn’t happen all at once. It happens in little pieces.
They start choosing their own clothes. They make their own decisions. They figure out how to get somewhere. They solve problems without asking you first. They have opinions about where they want to eat. They start making plans with friends that don’t include you.
And suddenly you’re standing there thinking, “Wait… when did you learn how to do all that?”
I think that’s one of the strange things about raising children. We’re constantly teaching them to become independent, but when they actually start becoming independent, a tiny part of us misses being the person they depended on for everything.
Ang bilis talaga.
Ykaie’s College Life Has Made This More Real
With Ykaie already in college at UP Diliman, this new stage has become much more real for me.
College isn’t just another school year. It’s a completely different stage of life. She has more responsibility for her schedule, her studies, her decisions, and eventually the direction she wants her life to take.
Of course, I’ll still ask if she’s eaten. I’ll still worry. I’ll still probably message her more than she thinks is necessary…heehee. That’s just Mommy being Mommy.
But I’m also learning that I can’t do everything for her anymore. And actually, that’s a good thing.
My job now isn’t to make every decision for her. It’s to help her learn how to make good decisions herself. It’s to listen when she needs me, give advice when she asks for it, and be there when things don’t go exactly as planned.
That’s a very different kind of motherhood.
Being Needed Doesn’t Always Mean Doing Something
This is probably one of the biggest things I’m learning.
When your children are little, being needed usually means doing something for them. Making their food, helping with homework, driving them somewhere, buying what they need, fixing something, or comforting them when they’re upset.
As they get older, being needed can become much quieter. Sometimes they just need someone to listen. Sometimes they want your opinion. Sometimes they need reassurance that they’re making the right decision. Sometimes they don’t even want advice. They just want to tell you something. And sometimes, the best thing you can do is simply be there.
I’ve realized that being a good mom isn’t always about fixing things anymore. Sometimes it’s about being a safe place where they can figure things out.
I Have to Learn When to Step In and When to Step Back
This might be one of the hardest parts for me. Because as moms, our instinct is often to fix things. If our child has a problem, we want to solve it. If they’re struggling, we want to make it easier.
But growing up means allowing them to experience small failures, make decisions, and figure things out.
That doesn’t mean we stop caring. It means we start trusting.
And trust can be hard, especially when your child is still your baby in your head even though she’s now in college and perfectly capable of handling things on her own.
Sometimes I have to remind myself, “Peachy, relax. Kaya na niya.”
Twinkle Reminds Me That I Still Have a Little One
At the same time, I have Twinkle. And because she’s younger, I still get to experience some of those more hands-on parts of motherhood. She still has school stories, little requests, reminders she needs, things she wants to show me, and plenty of opinions about what we’re eating or where we’re going.
Sometimes I look at her and think, “Please don’t grow up too quickly.” Then I remember that I probably said exactly the same thing about Ykaie.
That’s the funny thing about motherhood. You’re always trying to hold on to the moment you’re in while knowing that the next one is already coming.
Our Family Life Changes With Them
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because so many of the things we’ve done as a family have changed as the girls have grown.
Our family trips look different. Our staycations look different. Even our conversations around the dinner table have changed.
The girls have their own opinions now. They notice different things. They have their own interests. Sometimes they aren’t as excited about the things that used to make them jump up and down.
And that’s okay.
Our family traditions don’t have to stay exactly the same forever.
As I wrote in The Family Traditions We Didn’t Realize We Were Creating, some of the things that become special to a family simply grow and change along with the people in it.
Maybe that’s what we’re doing now—creating a new version of our family life.
I Still Want Them to Come Home
I know independence is a good thing.
I want my girls to grow into confident women who can take care of themselves. I want them to travel, build careers, make friends, fall in love, create lives of their own, and have dreams bigger than what I can imagine for them.
I want them to be capable.
But selfishly, I also hope they always know they can come home.
Not because I expect them to need me for everything, but because home should always be a safe place to land.
A place where they don’t have to pretend they’re okay if they’re not. A place where there’s food in the refrigerator. A place where someone will still ask, “Kumain ka na?”
And yes, probably a place where Mommy will still take too many pictures.
Maybe This Is What Letting Go Actually Looks Like
I used to think letting go meant suddenly sending your child out into the world and waving goodbye.
Now I think it happens much earlier.
It happens every time you let them make a decision. Every time you allow them to solve a problem. Every time you resist the urge to fix something for them. Every time you watch them try something new even though you’re nervous.
Little by little, you’re teaching them that they can live without you.
And that’s the goal.
Even if it’s a goal that makes my mommy heart a little sad.
Sometimes I miss the little girls they used to be.
I miss the tiny voices, the little hands, the endless questions, and the way they needed me for everything. I miss the days when a simple family outing could make them incredibly excited and when Mommy knowing where their favorite things were seemed to solve half the problems in the world.
But then I look at who they’re becoming, and I’m proud.
Ykaie is already navigating college life at UP Diliman, and watching her become more independent makes me realize how quickly those years passed. Twinkle is growing too, and I’m trying to enjoy this stage instead of constantly wishing she would stay little.
Because I’ve learned that you can’t freeze time. You can only be present for it.
So I’m trying to do that. To enjoy the conversations, the family meals, the coffee dates, the random trips, the birthday celebrations, and all those little “Mommy, look!” moments. Because one day, I know those will change too.
I Don’t Want to Be Needed for Everything
When I really think about it, I don’t actually want my daughters to need me for everything forever.
I want them to be capable. I want them to know how to make decisions, solve problems, handle disappointment, and take care of themselves.
I want them to know how to stand on their own. What I hope is that even when they don’t need me, they’ll still want me in their lives. There’s a big difference.
And maybe that’s the real goal of motherhood. Not raising children who can’t live without you. Raising children who can live independently but still choose to come back to you.
Motherhood changes quietly.
At first, your children need you for everything. Then they start needing you less for the little things and more for the things that really matter.
They may not need you to pack their bags anymore, but they might call when they’re overwhelmed. They may not need you to choose their clothes, but they might ask what you think about an important decision. They may not need you to solve every problem, but they may still need to know that you’re there.
And I think that’s a beautiful part of watching your children grow.
You don’t become less of a mom. You simply become a different kind of mom.
As Ykaie continues her college journey at UP Diliman, I’m learning to step back without stepping away. And as I watch Twinkle grow, I’m reminding myself to enjoy the stage we’re in right now instead of rushing toward the next one.
Because maybe someday, when both my girls are grown, I’ll look back at this season and wish I could have one ordinary day back.
One family dinner.
One coffee date.
One random “Tara, saan tayo?”
One more “Mommy, look!”
So for now, I’m going to be here.
Not to do everything for them.
Not to hold them back.
But to watch them grow, cheer them on, and remind them that wherever life takes them, they will always have a home in me.
