The Universe is apparently throwing signs my way that my offpsring, my wee boy, is not such a baby anymore.
Example: On Friday my son danced his first SLOW DANCE. Some 7th grade girl asked him to dance*, and he acquiesced. It's a good thing that the girls dance with their hands on the boys' shoulders, otherwise I imagine her hands would have met around his tiny waist. Anyway, I still can't believe my boy, who honestly seemed like he was in diapers just months ago, could be dancing with a girl.
Example: Several parents last night were speculating about whether this year would be "the last" for trick or treating. No. No no no. PLENTY of years left! How else will I get my supply of candy, if I can't send a willing kid out into the streets with an empty bag?
It's such a tired cliche to say they grow up so fast. I sure don't want to be one of those creepy mothers that can't let go of their children as they grow up. But honestly I feel like I can hear the clock ticking! There may come a time when he doesn't want to snuggle on the couch when we watch TV together. There may come a time when he will pretend not to know me when I have to come into his school. There may come a time when hugs are grudgingly given and accepted. I can't help but hope that's far off in the future, but middle school casts its doubts upon my timeline.
I love how independent he is becoming; it makes life a lot easier when he can do more for himself. But he's still a kid! And I'd be quite happy to have that last a while longer.
*For reasons unknown they call this "Snowballing." The last time I heard the term "snowballing" vis-a-vis male female relations, it was NOTHING I want middle schoolers to be involved with. But apparently, at his school, it just meant the girls are asking the boys to dance.
Monday, November 1, 2010
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