Why does sending my kid half-a-mile away, only for about two hours, five days a week feel so heart wrenching? My little man is becoming just that ... a little man. These days it seems there is very little he does that is childish. Not only can he wipe his own bum now but he can also negotiate and argue like a little teenager. He often tells me when a reprimand is "not appropriate." The other day when we stopped to get ice cream cones, I sat watching with a little glee in my heart as he devoured the melting, messy, chocolate ice cream cone, blissfully, and childishly unaware that he had chocolate all over his face. It was a sweet reminder that he's still got a little "little" left in him. I am mourning the fact that he will never again be the bald-headed two-year-old boy who clutched his Thomas the Train 24-seven and panicked every time Thomas' eyebrows would rub off, only to calm down when I drew them back on with a sharpie. Those days are over but I do have things to look forward to. I have this sweet little guy who obsessively collects coins, tries to earn money by picking up apricots that have fallen from the tree in our backyard, practices his letters, and tries to sell me stuff. He tries so hard to do things right and to be good.
He still cracks me up without even trying. I love his the way his little brain processes complex issues. It's great to see how he gets from Point A to Point B. The other day he was asking me questions about the different values of money and he was just trying to so hard to understand, I thought I would try an analogy kind of like a strength-in-numbers-sort-of concept. I said, "Ok, pretend there is a guy who is so big and strong that he is the best fighter in the army, so you would think he could win a battle by himself?" Sam said, "Well, no... ." Then I said, "Well what if there were 1,000 other guys who weren't as strong and tough, but they all worked together ... do you think they could defeat an army?" Sam said, "Well maybe, but if that guy is so tough and is the best fighter, it's too dangerous to be in the army. He should just quit and join the Air Force." It made me laugh and I realized we weren't talking about currency anymore.
In truth, the next five years have a bit of uncertainty to them. Not that I am worried that my Sammo will be any less full of sweetness, I just hope I can be the mama he needs to keep growing into who he wants and is supposed to be.
2 comments:
This is so sweet. I'm feeling the same way. Only mine won't start kindergarten till next year and I already get teary eyed. It is hard to realize you won't ever see those cute chubby thighs again or those sweet wrists that look like someone wrapped a rubber band around. But yes...on to the bigger and better. I think you're a great mom!
i love the thomas train sharpie thing! what a doll. he's so lucky to have you!
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