Tuesday, September 11, 2012

About the Boy

He is seven today. He is seven and all that seven should be, all high energy and unending questions and incredible curiosity and insatiable desire for knowledge and fun and toys and adventures. His face is all drama and emotion and smirks and wide, gorgeous smiles. His voice still has a little lisp, and his knees are perpetually caked in dirt - I've given up on ever successfully scrubbing it off. His imagination is wild, whether he's playing any one of his various made-up games or driving me nuts with his invented scenarios: "What if one day I'm getting out of the car and I fall back and I land on the street and a car is coming and it doesn't see me and it runs me over, and I die?" or "What if one day you give me dinner but you forget to cook it all the way and you poison me?"

He is a study in absurdity, making claims so outrageous and exaggerated  - "I've wanted you and (Jevo) to be married since I was a baby in your belly," "My stomach's been hurting for 15 million days now" - that it's hard not to laugh at him, and sometimes, I do. I'll tease him gently and get him to see that maybe he's stretching things too far - I don't ever want him to take himself so seriously that he loses sight of reality. He doesn't like it when I try to bring him down from these heights, where everything is so huge and such a big deal. More than anything, he thinks he knows best and very truly believes that he knows better than and more than us. Ha.

Over the last year, it's been harder and harder for me to write about that nutty boy of mine. I've hit that point that I think a lot of "mommy bloggers" hit eventually, when they start guarding their growing children's privacy more and more.

I have, anyway. I have felt less willing to share details about his life because I see his life growing more complicated, and don't feel anymore that it's "safe" to be as open about him. Plus, I feel more aware of his individuality, separate from me as my possession, and I must respect that there are things that might bother him to know are out on the Internet for the world to see.

I'm comfortable writing about him still when it's something that's really about me - my feelings about being his mother, how he affects me, how an experience affects me, etc. But his stories, I prefer to stay away from. Kindergarten last year brought a lot of difficult times, things that are normal but unpleasant, and it was in living though it that I realized that I don't want to write about his challenges or about him when it's just about him and his life. I don't know what the future holds, what unintended consequences there might be to my words. This is the right decision for me.

Still, he is everything to me and it's impossible to remove him from here. And as I've watched him approach seven and reflect on his first three weeks of first grade, I'm struck by the speed of time and his growth in individuality and into independence. He still straddles a line, where he can be a little man one moment, and a snuggly baby the next. He remains incredibly affectionate with me, and I still can't tell if this is part of his development or just who he is. I'd be thrilled if he was always affectionate with me, but I treat it always as something I will lose. I tease him about it, how he will one day be a teenager and I'll be his lame mommy and he won't want to kiss me or have me hanging around. The reply he always gives me slays me: "But why would I do that, mommy? You're my favorite person ever." And when I explain that it's normal, that kids sometimes want to not be so close to their parents, he tells me, "But why wouldn't I want to be with you when I love you the most in this world?" That he truly feels that way means everything to me, but I think I know better.

He would disagree, not just because it is he who knows best, but because it is in his nature to take an opposite stance and push back, talking a topic to death till you just want to seal your ears shut. He might be a bit like me in this way...

My quirky, sweet, crazily intelligent, open, dramatic, imaginative, funny son is seven, a big boy who continues to amaze me and inspire me and frustrate me and impress me. 

Despite all this evidence to the contrary, he is my baby still.

Happy birthday, kiddo. Your other dad and I love you like crazy.


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Six

Five
Four
Three
Two
One

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Posted by Tere @ 9/11/2012   | |

3 Comments

  • Blogger Freckle Face Girl posted at 9/11/2012 11:33 PM  
    Handsome & fun! - great combination
  • Anonymous Pschologists in Sydney posted at 1/15/2013 5:49 AM  
    Oh, I know how you are feeling with your kid. We almost have the same story with my boy too. Afterall, he is still my baby and I love him! Your baby is handsome and sweet. Nice share!
  • Blogger Dayngr posted at 2/17/2013 4:10 PM  
    Tere, he's just adorable! My how the time has flown by. Hard to believe how fast they grow up! He's amazing.
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