"Young boys should never be sent to bed…
they always wake up a day older."
J.M. Barrie, "Finding Neverland"
He's an anomaly at 12…at least I think he is.
His sister suggested he could be happy living in a box with a stick for a toy. He received the remark as compliment knowing it was extended with affection and a special kind of knowing, the kind reserved for those who are accustomed to your ways and understand you best because their blood is mingled with yours.
I love to watch them using my ears and the eyes in the back of my head, when they have no idea I'm paying attention. She's always been so sweet to him, patient outwardly when inner patience was slimmer than a newborn's lash, and bless his heart, he's blithely oblivious when she needs him to go. Sometimes I have to step in for the rescue, he's like gum barnacled to an old school desk and isn't removed without intention–and sometimes a crowbar.
In middle school, the rules change. If you're lucky like him, you've got an older sibling who tests this fragile ice first. Through osmosis you learn tween-to-teen mores, absorbing the subtleties of what's accepted for a middle schooler–and more importantly, what's not. Cool shows to watch. Cool clothes to wear. Cool toys for play. In this generation, birthday gifts for boys can fit in the palm of your hand. Board games and balls are transfigured to a kaleidoscopic stack of giftcards.
I hate our age of electronics. We resist it…we battle it…but, still it robs so much. Imagination. Boredom that leads to the joy of discovery. Being fully present with family or friends. I'm not just talking about children.
Anyways……..
He's my baby. I remind him when he's 40-something with kids of his own, he'll still be my baby. There's a world of difference between being "a" baby and being my baby and every mama on the planet understands just what I mean. It's not about indulging your youngest; it's the realization that Time leads a race you'll never win and if you don't fix your eyes on the target, it'll be a blur on its way to out of view. I blink, but only when I have to.
This child straddles the "in-between"; he sees Teenager just ahead–how can you not be excited about that?!–but if he opens his closet door, he's happy to pull out the Legos. He'll create and construct for hours, exuding a patience worthy of marvel. I admire his determination for something I could never do.
Two bottle caps take center stage, one Coke, one Dr. Pepper, his newest kittenesque amusement. Flipping, spinning, flicking and twirling, they've provided hours of entertainment. He's mastered the backspin. His enthusiasm is contagious and his best friend shares his fascination long after their colas are gone. Best friends are birthed in shared delight and discovery.
I smile and savor and resist blinking as long as possible. I force myself to hold him loosely, knowing too tight a fist will serve neither of us. When he marches to his own drumbeat, impervious to pressure to grow up faster than need be, I'm thankful.
And I send him to bed knowing Neverland exists only on the silver screen, and that, yes, tomorrow he'll be a day older…
…but thinking maybe, just maybe, a sliver of that Peter Pan boyish wonder might just stick with him a while longer.
Love this, Robin.
Love it.
I’ll be there before we know it.
My kids are running around right now and the only sound in my house is their giggles and the gears of there imaginations churning.
love it.
My son is almost five and I can’t even imagine 12! Like you, at night while he’s sleeping, I call out to Peter Pan hoping he will keep him close for a while longer.
A touching and well written piece. Found you through Maggie. I’ll be back for more.
IB
Mine are 1 and 4, and I try so hard to soak it all up before Time takes my babies away.
I can’t help but smile at your comment, Rachel; I swear I was “there” five
minutes ago…not DECADES! Well, decade, lol. I think one of the greatest
things you’re doing right now is encouraging your kids to help you cook.
That’s a skill they’ll use for the rest of their lives. 🙂
Putting a book on his head won’t help either. I’ve tried ;).
Awww…thanks for popping over, and especially for a) “speaking”, and b)
letting me know how you found my blog. I wonder how many visit Pensieve I
never hear from………..:)
Good for you! Just realizing and BELIEVING this time is fleeting will help
you savor all the more :).
beautiful. so true of my 5 year old boy also.
Love this post Mine are still little (2 and almost 5), but I have to admit that as school started this year, I was kind of glad that my daughter’s birthday comes 2 weeks too late for her to enter Kindergarten this year. It doesn’t seem possible that next year she’ll be heading off to school. And my baby somehow became a toddler way tooo quick. Can’t imagine 12, although I know it will be here before we know it.
*sniff*
I love the quote and I love what you have written. My son is eleven and I know how fast the time is flying away.
Oh, Robin…you have such a way with words…a way that touches the soul. Beautiful. Just beautiful…
I can so relate. My son is 13 and just had his first “girl that won’t leave me alone” incident. And he wanted to talk to his dad about it.
Oh the joy that flooded my soul (and my blog – lol).
Where does the time go?
Thanks, Melissa ((quick! go hug him!)) 🙂
Honestly? I appreciated my kids entering school; I worked part-time jobs at my church/consulting/writing, and at least once they began, I wasn’t dragging them with me or ignoring them! Of course, that’s not to say I didn’t miss ’em, too!
And with the countdown to my oldest heading to college? I wish I could put the brakes on time!
Awwww, Laurie…t h a n k you :).
Susan, I’m pretty sure you can tell when my heart takes the pen; usually any time I’m writing about my babies! 🙂
Other times, it’s my funny bone ;).
I SOOoooo wish I had been blogging when my babies were little! Then I could “remember” more!!!
{Suddenly wishin’ for Jim Croce’s “Time in a Bottle” to be real…..)
Ah, this post couldn’t be more perfect. With a teenager and 2 approaching pre-teen-dom themselves, I totally feel what you’re saying here. I cuddled with my almost-ten-year-old the other day and wondered how many more days I had of cuddles before he’s “too big” for them? *sigh*
Oh I love this. So beautiful (I stumbled it.) My oldest is still only nine, but she’ll be sailing those waters, the first of her siblings, before I know it.
The son mentioned in this post still likes to snuggle (for now). I’m pretty
sure his primary love language is either “touch” or “time”, so either way he
gets it, ya know? If/when yours shies away from the cuddles, don’t take it
personally…and if he never shies? Well, act like it’s perfectly normal
and enjoy :).
Oh, gosh, Amber, I remember when my oldest hit “double digits” and I about
croaked, lol. There are a thousand little milestones, aren’t there?
And THANK YOU for the stumble!!! I really enjoyed writing this, so if a few
more people get to read it, that thrills me!! 🙂 xo
Goooood writing!!!