My relationship with my son is changing. He’s my best friend, and I probably give him more kisses than anyone in the family. He no longer likes it when I hug him in front of others at drop-off or hold his hand at the local shopping center when kids his age or older are in the vicinity. He is newly into being “cool.” I respect him and like him in addition to loving him.
He is approaching eight years old and says he wants to go to sleepaway camp this year. We may have already had our last summer together. He chooses to do activities based on whether his friends will be there (though also, to my great pride, he does things independently) and would happily go in a carpool instead of riding with me.
He is mature but still wakes up next to me most mornings. I don’t get bothered by how he often ends up sideways or how sweaty we get by lying on top of each other. I could cuddle with him forever. He’s behind me as I write this, just hanging out. But he would probably be embarrassed, so, shhh.
I know he’s growing up, and I have mixed feelings about it. Perhaps most of all, I want to feel present for it.
Present for this magical, special time we are in now where we can really talk and laugh and watch movies together and read Judy Blume together, where he is also self-sufficient (ish). I can have him “babysit” his little sister if I have a work call, where he still hugs me when I walk into the room.
Last spring, he asked if he could call me “Mom” instead of “Mommy” once he turned seven, and when he saw my face, he said, “OK, I won’t.” But in the past few months, he’s started to do so. In October, I took a video of him saying, “I love you, Mommy,” because I wasn’t sure if it would be the last time.
When I was postpartum, I was walking in our neighborhood with my husband, another couple, and our baby boys (theirs is ten months older than mine). We happened to bump into the mother of the male friend we were with. “Enjoy this time,” she advised, looking at my infant. I responded, “It doesn’t get better than this, huh?” But she replied, “No, actually. It continues to get better. Even now, with my son as an adult, it’s better than ever.” This moment has always stuck with me.
Parenting is weird, change is hard, and being present is a challenge – especially for me, as I’ve always been focused on what’s next, progress, and moving forward. Maybe it does continue to get better, but it’s also important to appreciate the now, the moment that we are in, because we don’t get these moments back.
I look at my son’s ankles sticking out of his pants and breathe in his smell, which has been constant his whole life, and wonder how we got here. I want to be HERE, be NOW. I want to work on putting my phone away, closing my computer, and being in the moment.
