One Small Step for Man
Hygiene Chronicles | October 14
Growing up is hard. And it is probably the worst on us parents who aren’t yet ready to acknowledge that one stage is over and the next is happening right before our eyes.
Yesterday, my son came to me with his blue stool in his hands. He uses this to reach the sink every night and brush his teeth. I sit there next to him watching him brush and then afterwards, I tuck him in bed.
“Do you know what, daddy? I’m positive I don’t need this any more.”
UGH. My heart rips that he is tall enough to not need a stool.
And ‘positive’? Where the hell did he learn to use that word correctly?
While he still sleeps in batman pajamas and has a room that is decorated in dinosaurs, I know that this world of being a little boy is ending soon. There are nights I sit in his room after he’s sleeping and wonder how many months we have left of it. Being surrounded by fisher price toys and a stuffed monkey make me feel like daddy. This is what I love most of all. Don’t let this end.
I remember those days when he was 9 months old. We’d prop him up with pillows in the family room. Then he reach for something and fall over. He’d cry out to be propped up again only to fall over seconds later. I’d look up to heaven and say, “I hate this stage. Please let him get older.”
God… I was only kidding. I’m not ready for him to grow up. I like my boy little.
He’s going to picking out his own clothes soon. Eventually there will be no more Higglytown Heroes. He’s going be watching those freaking live action shows like Zach & Cody. Buckaroo will be replaced with video games I can’t even play.
My screen saver is filled with pictures of him at all stages in his life. It’s strange to see a little boy who fit in one of those tub rings…or a boy in pull-ups…or a boy who rode a tricycle.
Where is that little guy? I want him back.
And I promise God… I won’t ask for him to grow that fast again.
I happened across of photo of Andrew at 10. He is now 18 and wonderful. Still, I took that photo to my husband and said, “I miss that guy.” He smiled and said, “me too.”
I think ages 7 to 11 will always be the years I miss most. The very most.
I’m not ready for this either. Stop making me cry.
This makes me tear up since we are going through the exact same thing with our Little Man. He can wash his own hands now, brush his teeth, sleeps in a toddler bed and he loves Zach & Cody! We don’t want him to grow up too fast either.
Good post.
It’s odd, I don’t miss my younger kids. I don’t really want them to grow up faster, but I do like every new stage they hit, especially now that they are (or are becoming) teenagers. My daughter (almost 14) went to her first concert yesterday. I was almost as excited as she was. And we can share new things. “Are you also nervous before you go to concerts mama?” “Yup, I always am”. I love exchanging these kind of things.
Does the fact that I don’t miss my babies, make me a heartless mother? ;-) Oh well, I do miss cuddling with those peachy babies, but I cherish it soooo much that they are getting more independent every day.
I am with ya Anne. I am loving the new independence of my 3 and 5 year old girls. I enjoyed the little stuff, but get a thrill with the new “Look what I can do Mom!” excitement.
Great post!
Jen
Bossy’s teenage son picks out his own clothes to… It’s picking up the clothes he’s not so good at…
When my daughter was around 18 months old, we were waiting in line at the local bakery for a cookie. The woman standing ahead of us asked how old our daughter was, told us that her daughter was 14, and then wistfully said “I miss my little girl.”
My daughter is three now, and I’ve lamented every stage that she has left in my heart, while outwardly cheering her on. She wants to grow up so badly. And I’m growing too, since I never truly understood my parents until I had a child. But I already know that I am going to miss this precious little one as she is replaced with the adult version of herself.
The best advice I ever got while I was pregnant (and believe me, pregnant women get a LOT of advice) came from a little old lady in a grocery store checkout aisle. “Pay attention,” she said, “it goes by SO fast. You may not think so, especially when you’re so sleep deprived you think you’re going to go mad, and your life seems like nothing but an endless cycle of feedings and dirty diapers, but pretty soon you’ll look up and that baby will be borrowing the car. Trust me.”
She was SO right. My babies are ten and eight, and it blows my mind. I’m paying attention, though, just like that grandmother told me to, and I’m loving every minute of it.
Once they became independent, I loved spending every waking hour with the girls. Now that they are 16, we get on each other’s nerves when we are together that much. Still, something about J’s giggle that puts a smile on my face. I’ve always said that I would take being blind over deaf since I don’t know what I would do without that sound in my life. Give him a hug and remember, you aren’t teaching him to drive yet!
My oldest is 6, and I am already torn by his newfound independence and his need to rely on me. But I am glad that his aim is a little better in the bathroom
Steve,
You’re such a sap. Just man up and deal with it. OK. I’m going to go look at the girls baby pictures. Ah crap.