This morning, as I was walking through the garage, I saw something and gasped in horror. How on earth did that unseemly, huge…I don’t know—creature?—get into my house? I mean, I like to think I have an itty-bitty-teeny bit of control over my environment. But this? This monster was reminding me that some things—some very alarming things, at that—are simply out of my hands. Yes, there’s evil lurking in halls of my very own house.
I guess I should have seen it coming. The way food has been magically disappearing from the table. The ever-increasing, non-descript muscle pain.
Something’s been off.
Today that something clicked. As I took a step toward the elliptical machine, I almost stepped on it. The creature, that is. The one that made me gasp.
And while I tend to be dramatic, this moment was totally gaspworthy. I mean it was a bright electric blue. And it was huge—almost the size of my workout sneakers. You know, the ones my husband affectionately refers to as my boats? Yes, that huge.
I know what you’re thinking, I live with two little boys. I’m bound to come across things that alarm me. But here’s the thing. I don’t live with two little boys. And that, my friends, is the horror of it all.
Because right there before my very eyes was Big’s new sneaker.
It wasn’t the sneaker of a little boy who needs his mom, except maybe to clean up after him, I guess. No, this was the sneaker of a boy who can do all kinds of things. A boy who can read. A boy who can cook. A boy who can ride away without looking back. A boy who can make new friends. A boy who can get offended when his little brother unknowingly points at him with the wrong finger. A boy who can see a girl and blush. A boy who can pitch. A boy who can catch. A boy who can dribble and fake. A boy who can make his own good choices. A boy who can leap. A boy who can land firmly on his own two outrageously-too-big-for-this-mama’s-heart feet.
And do you know what that boy is today? Well, he’s a boy whose mom is going to hold on to him a bit tighter. For as long as he lets me.
Have you liked my Facebook page yet? Or subscribed to receive my posts via email (over there in the right hand column on the blog)? I value your time and this community, and hope you’ll choose to be a part of it one way or another.
can you even believe it?!?!?! they are huge. In a literal sense – Finn and i wear the SAME SIZE SHOE!!!! it’s really weird…. and yet he still wants to hold my hand and hide in my armpit when he’s feeling shy or insecure or nervous…. 😉 xoxo
exactly! i’m still holding on to those sweet little needy moments.
so touching – you’re such a beautiful writer amy
Thanks so very much, Suzy!
Your post resonates with me so much. Just yesterday I was out running errands with my older son and I realized that he is no longer of the age where I have to automatically hold his hand while walking through the parking lot. It actually hurt to realize that.
But then he reached out for my hand on his own, and I thought, I need to savor this. It’s hard to see them grow up, isn’t it?
Isn’t that such a great feeling…knowing that they still want you even when they don’t need you. Yes, it is hard. Bittersweet, indeed.