Thoughts from a Thinking Girl

At 2:10 today, I become the parent of a 4th grader. The past few days he’s come home with his backpack stuffed with journals, pencils, markers, math books, homework sheets, art projects, science observation sheets, even a brand new dictionary. And he won an MP4 player at his after-school program, which only caused me to wonder, “what’s an MP4 player? – I thought there were only MP3 players.”

I’m moving ever closer to obsolescence, to the days when he won’t share what happens to him while he’s at school, won’t stumble sleepily up the stairs in the morning and aim directly for my arms, for a first-of-the-day hug (or require a hug before showering at night). I am destined to move further and further to the outside of his orbiting world, as he aquires new planets and suns and stars for his own path. May I make this move with dignity, even as right now, today, I feel the urge to stomp my feet and demand eternal relevance in his life, to stop time if that’s the only way to keep this precious cycle going without interruption.

I will miss this time of his boyhood, the time where he has enough time and space in his mind and heart to love me and have it not interfere with his ability to love anything else – study, friends, adventures. But I know enough about growing up to know that at one point, his love for me will conflict with other loves. I hope for the strength to love him when his loves oppose me, for the ability to stay connected to him when he pushes away, re-invents himself through the eyes of others, becomes the man who he is destined to be, even though I’ve only yet known him as a boy.

I raise this morning’s decaf soy caramel macciato to toast the man my son is becoming. And to the as-yet-unknown me who will emerge, slightly more worn and tired, but forever touched by the years I’ve been blessed to be a mother who is loved by her son.