My firstborn and only son turns twelve today. Twelve! 12. A decade + 2. Last year of childhood. Almost a teenager.
When I found out I was pregnant with my first child, I prayed for a son. Having two sisters, I never experienced a brother. I was curious. I wanted to learn about boys through mothering one. I wanted to know everything about a little boy. Why were they so loud? What made them run so fast? Why did they turn sticks into guns? Why did they pull a girl's hair when they really liked her? Why did they burp and fart constantly, love to skip rocks, and have a warrior spirit? Where did they get their energy?
When Asher was born, he instantly picked up his head and looked around the room with eyes wide open. I marveled at his instant fascination with exploring his new world. He never seemed to want to sleep. He hated being restrained in his car seat. He cried when we put shoes on his feet. He was a ball of energy from the start... always demanding more and more of me.
He taught me to think and move faster while at the same time making me slow to anger.
I loved him at first sight.
He has always hated to hear the word "no." Now, I see him more completely. "No" is another restraint to him because he doesn't ask for much. When he is disciplined, he sometimes receives instruction with defiance... but I can't think of a time when he didn't return to me and apologize for his mistake.
As a boy, he was a ball of endless energy. As a young man, he is friendly, curious, smart, and full of potential.
D and I reflected on his life last night and then talked about his future. We found a quote we both loved...
"Adolescence is a new birth, for the higher and more completely human traits are now born." -G. Stanley Hall
What is coming? So many people warn of what is around the corner. Every phase has been challenging... isn't that the purpose of children? I really see it as another learning experience. And, isn't learning about refining our current set of beliefs? Learning is a deeper understanding of our purpose. Raising children has never been a bed of roses... it has been a winding path of beautiful views, unexpected "oops" switchbacks, and the occasional rest stop.
Son. I have loved watching and participating in your "so far" journey of life.
Just remember... "Every man dies. Not every man really lives." -William Wallace