I watch him run the length of the grass, hands and head in a raptor pose. He still pretends, with his younger brother chasing behind, asking me to keep watching. Just like he did when he jumped off the side of the pool for the first time, and pedaled his bike down the driveway for the first time, he wants me to see. I’m his mom and no matter what he pretends to be or what milestone he’s conquered, I’ll be keeping a close eye on him.
But he’s also getting older. The grass that he’s running around in, playing like he’s a velociraptor, is in front of the school that he just spent the whole day in. The school where he learned to spell “earthquake” and estimate numbers in the hundreds of thousands, where life gets more complicated and ideas get bigger and bigger.
Pretty soon, all of my kids will have homework every night and not much time to just run around the yard, pretending to be dinosaurs. They’ll have significant things to worry about, and so will I. I’ve already moved beyond worrying whether the toddler will fall off the chair that he climbed all the way up, beyond whether he’ll be the last one to learn to spell his name, and beyond whether he’ll do the motions for the songs in the elementary school program. Right now I worry about whether the kids will still like him each time he moves up a grade and if he’ll continue to keep his math grade up, but before long, I’ll be worrying about the girl he likes and hoping she likes him, too, and what he’ll do after he graduates from high school.
For now, he’s still a child, and he still snuggles up next to me on the couch when it’s rainy outside, still makes raptor noises with his little brother. But childhood doesn’t last…we can only let them be kids as long as they’ll let us.
I don't think we'll ever stop worrying. I wonder if my mom worried about me as much as I worry about my kids. 🙂
I wonder this all the time. How did they make it? HOW ARE WE ALIVE?
Greta, I love that last line. Only as long as they let us. And as long as they're letting us, we'll enjoy it.
I am both impatient about the time it takes for them to grow (especially at this moment when my son has been crying at my feet for the past hour about not being able to play video games because he's being punished for throwing temper trantrums) and the desire for it all to slow down and let me just enjoy.
As long as they let us… sigh. Truth. xoxoxo
I'm at the stage where I worry about the girl he likes… and it feels like yesterday that I worried about the other things, the things that now seem minor looking at what's ahead. He's only a freshman in high school but knows what he wants to do once he graduates and already has a few colleges in mind. I hope that doesn't change in the next few years. I guess, that's my major worry now that he sticks to this chosen path.
This is beyond sweet.
The good news is that even when he grows up, he'll still want your attention.
My son is 18 and every day when he comes home from school, he starts talking about his day and doesn't stop.
Ever.
Like, seriously.
Once you've got a kid who says "Mom! Look!", you have one forever.
I love it when my kids "just play."
I'll admit that I enjoy video games & movies, because it's stuff that my kids do where they're captivated & I can be doing most anything else without worrying about them. But, when they play — when something happens and, suddenly, they're living in a whole world of imagination . . . well, I cherish those times more than any other time.
Sometimes I wish we could freeze them. Just wait until he starts sitting in the front seat! *gut punch* 😉
He's so darn cute!