In less than a month, Mason, my eldest child, will turn 9. 9 years old! Do you realize that means that his time here at home, under my wing (more than likely) is 50% over? I've been thinking about this alot lately, trying to figure out what we're going to do for his celebration, and just noticing how BIG he's getting.
Gone are the days when I could kiss the bottom of his feet while smiling at his beautiful chubby face. I'm no longer allowed anywhere NEAR the bathroom while he is taking a shower or changing clothes. I've said goodbye to putting his laundry away, reading him books (I tried to read him one last year - he let me do it because he loves me, but he later told me he'd just rather read it himself), starting the water for his bath (he takes a shower now, which he starts on his own). He now stays by himself at the house while I go pick up Caroline from choir (I'm only gone 10-15 minutes, and he's not allowed to answer the door OR phone, unless it's me). He doesn't want me call him "cutie" or "baby" or "sweetie", and I can't blame him. He's got a paying job, and is saving his money right now to buy a Nintendo DS. He reads the paper (comics only!).
It's 50% over, but I DO still have some things to relish: whenever I buy him a new pair of shoes, he really does believe they make him run faster and jump higher. Each night he wants to be tucked in, have his back rubbed, and have Michael or I listen to him talk about whatever is on his mind. When he loses a tooth, he puts it into the "tooth fairie pillow" that Michael used as a boy and places it under his pillow - though, usually the tooth fairie forgets to come and I end up just giving him some money the next morning and telling him that the TF will pay me back. He's over believing, he just wants the cash. Still, you gotta admit it's cute.) He still misses me when I'm gone. He asks good questions about God and faith...and he listens to the answers without thinking that he already knows everything.
Michael and I have always desired that we would raise our children to leave home and be resposible adults with plenty of domestic skills. We still have the teenage years to face - and I know they will be tough - but I don't dread them...I know that raising children just gets harder (all my wise older mom friends promise me this). I am already praying that my children, when they leave our home, will be able to walk away, but take lots of the good stuff with them. I hope that makes sense.
Sigh...I know I have 9 more years, but I also know they will fly by. In the meantime, I think I will go into Ethan's room, where he is playing with his choo-choo, give him a tickle torture and kiss the soles of his feet. Just because I can.
Bless ya!
PS...I realize this is not a very flattering picture of me. Almost 24 hours of labor - what do you expect? Look how young Michael looks, though!
No comments:
Post a Comment