Saturday, December 1, 2007

As a Boy Becomes a Man

I am startled sometimes at how my son is maturing before my eyes.

Yes, this same child who forgets his homework enough that we have to tape a blue list to the front door so he doesn't forget on his way to school. The same son who walks in the door, removes his shoes and coat, and later can't find them, even though the rest of us have been stepping on or over them for hours. The same son who can be moody and insolent and 10 minutes later ask if he can have "My Sims" for his DS game.

Yesterday, I received a voice mail. "Hey Mom. This is your son. I am just calling to let you know that the massage place called to confirm your one hour appointment. Thanks."

This morning, I came down to find him snuggled on the couch with his brother, reading out loud from his Spiderwick series of books, using different voices for better effect.

Last week when I had excruciating headaches and neck pain, he heated up the heat pad for me.

And then, two days ago, when I was explaining that a dear relative who lives far, far away was sick and did not have much time and that we might have to prepare ourselves for this, he said, in his innocent and genuine 10-year old way, "Mom, if we have to go see him, its ok that it ruins my perfect attendance record. That's not important."

In his own ways, he's becoming the man I don't have in my house right now.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

4 comments:

BamBam said...

I'd take a hug from son #1 right now, and I'm sure he'd give it to me from the sounds of things.

I just got back in from the hospital. Pebbles had some kind of seizure or something this afternoon. Totally freaked out mini-Peb's and I.

They kept her in for good measure, even though she was feeling great and being a royal pain in the ... well, you know.

She knew I would write you about it. She wants you to know that she "feels fine now."

I'll keep you posted.

Hunter said...

You Go, Grandson#1! You make me beam with pride.

Love and Shmushkies,

Zayda

DrChako said...

It's hard to convey emotion in a comment, but please know that as I write this I'm overcome with it. Almost like a scene out of a movie, as I left to go to war, I held my oldest son and told him he needed to be the man of the house while I'm gone. It seems he's up to the challenge.

We've got good kids. They come from good stock.

-The Husband

PS. The forgetfulness comes from me.

Shhh... Quiet said...

Yeah, the forgetfulness/can't find anything is definitely a guy thing.

I'll look for butter in the fridge for 10 minutes. The mrs comes in, and grabs it from right in front of me.

And if I have to remember to bring anything to my daughters school, there must be a note on the door.