|Love this guy!|
That moment exploded inside my heart.
I've been down this road with one child and I know what's coming. Lurking around the corner, peeking through the windows, waits the day when I'll realize I haven't held his hand in a long time--and I'm not likely to anytime soon, either.
So I settled in to enjoy this night of talk and food and companionship. I loved it.
I also know I'll love whatever comes next. It's the greatest privilege I know to watch our children become themselves. And Little A. has really come into his stride this year.
He loves his new school. He seems on top of who he is and how to be that guy. I love his point of view, his sense of humor, his depth of feeling, and his aplomb. I love that he's into smiling and hugging again.
Oh, sure, he has his bad days. One group of kids he at school--he calls the cliques at school "gangs" which kills me--stopped talking to him for a day or so, for no real reason. He was really bummed. I told him to hang in there; when there's no good reason for something like that, it usually goes away.
Next Monday, he came home happy as could be and told me he had a great day. After a huge list of good stuff, he added, "Oh, and Mom? Just as you predicted, it did blow over with my friend's gang."
Just as you predicted? You're killing me, kid.
Big A.'s mom came to stay for a weekend before Christmas. Among other wonderful things, she hung out with the kids while we went to the office Christmas party. Later that night, she told us how, when they were walking the dog, Little A. stopped suddenly.
"Grandma, hold Bruno's leash. I'm going to do something EPIC."
Our neighbor had several of those spotlights that project sparkly dots of red and green all over the house. Little A. struck a pose in front of the spotlight, covering himself in sparkles and creating a house-sized shadow.
Right now, Little A. likes purple. For Christmas, his piano teacher gave him socks with blue and purple musical notes on them. He generally tries not to wear socks if he can help it (he lives in Crocs), but on Crazy Sock Day, he proudly put on his musical socks--with his shorts--and pulled those socks ALL the way up to his knees.
I don't veto creativity in clothes; I only veto for health and propriety. So all I did was ask, "Are you sure you want to wear your crazy socks pulled all the way up like that?"
He gave me the biggest "Duh, Mom" look ever. Then he said, "It's WINTER."
Stay you, son. You rock.
|And I love this guy, too!|