We go through the day to day stuff of parenting and hours and weeks seem unending as kids drive you insane with questions, OH THE QUESTIONS, and a minute feels several hours long and you wish for peace and quiet and bathroom time all to yourself because you can't see straight for all the babble coming at you from every direction.
Today is his last day of school and he'll be starting grade 6 this fall. How the hell did this happen? I blink and realize that my baby boy will soon be finished elementary school and I'll blink again and he'll be getting married or having a baby. Someone please explain how we can send a robot to Mars but we haven't figured out how to delay time?
I'm not ready. I want to keep him at this age because he still needs me to guide him between right and wrong, to wash his clothes, to read stories to, to have cozies before bedtime and tuck him in 'snug-as-a-b
ug'. I want to keep him close to me so I can see with my own eyes that he is safe from a stranger nabbing him at the grocery store, safe from being bullied by teenagers at the park, safe from falling down and scraping his knee, safe from having his heart broken by his first crush, safe from all the hurt and disappointment that will come his way because that is part of living.
It is true what they say: when you have a baby, your heart is forever beating on the outside of your body. It is walking around out there in all it's bittersweet vulnerability in the form of growing children and it ceases to belong to you alone.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Unless I can get it bubble wrapped.
Today is his last day of school and he'll be starting grade 6 this fall. How the hell did this happen? I blink and realize that my baby boy will soon be finished elementary school and I'll blink again and he'll be getting married or having a baby. Someone please explain how we can send a robot to Mars but we haven't figured out how to delay time?
I'm not ready. I want to keep him at this age because he still needs me to guide him between right and wrong, to wash his clothes, to read stories to, to have cozies before bedtime and tuck him in 'snug-as-a-b
ug'. I want to keep him close to me so I can see with my own eyes that he is safe from a stranger nabbing him at the grocery store, safe from being bullied by teenagers at the park, safe from falling down and scraping his knee, safe from having his heart broken by his first crush, safe from all the hurt and disappointment that will come his way because that is part of living.It is true what they say: when you have a baby, your heart is forever beating on the outside of your body. It is walking around out there in all it's bittersweet vulnerability in the form of growing children and it ceases to belong to you alone.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Unless I can get it bubble wrapped.
2 comments:
Oh you cow! I'm already pms'ing and you have to go and say all that stuff about children growing up and keeping them safe and your heart on the outside of your body and now I'm trying to fight back the tears so that Jamie doesn't ask me (yet again) why I'm crying when I have obviously not hurt myself in any way.
Except sometimes it does.
Getting the kleenex...
I love this one too. for all of the tiredness, frustration, poverty, lack of a social or sex life, they really are the best things to ever happen to us. I feel the same about my son - I am proud and happy that he is becoming a little man, with quirky thoughts of his own and a burgeoning independence; but a big part of me wants to be able to kiss his baby cheeks forever and have him say "mummy, I wuv you" in his special way even when he is too cool for me. I always want to be not only relevant but important in his life.
tissue - yes - tissue.
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