And so it begins

Originally published March 2, 2006

And so it begins

I am now the mother of a 10-year-old.
How this happened is one of life’s mysteries. It seems like only yesterday that he was born, and yet so much has changed.
I now understand what people meant when they told me “Don’t be in a hurry for him to grow up.”
I couldn’t wait for him to reach milestones like his first step. I so looked forward to his first words, but once he started talking, it has been impossible to make him stop. I miss the small voice that would say “peas” when he wanted something, followed by a tilt of his head. It was nearly impossible to say “no” to that.
The little tyke who would race to greet me when I picked him up from daycare has been replaced with a disgruntled young man who would rather stay and have fun with his peers than go home.
The little guy who would cling to my legs and look up now only has about six inches to go before he passes me in height, and his feet are already longer than mine.
He has his own ideas about the clothes he wears and how his hair should be cut. Instead of listening to Disney and Sesame Street music, he likes rock and punk. He wants to learn to play the guitar, and wishes I had given him a brother or sister so he could have someone to back him up on the drums.
He is too much like me in many ways, and not at all like me in others. He still has the same vivid imagination he had at 3, along with an unwillingness to go to sleep at a reasonable time. I can still see a hint of the little guy he was when he sleeps.
Where did the 10 years go?
Although it may seem like he was just born, we have moved five times and lived in four different communities. I’ve graduated from college, paid off my student loans and now would love to go back to school.
This is the third job I’ve had in that time. We’ve celebrated birthdays, gone to family reunions and weddings, and haven’t taken nearly enough vacations. Over a dozen new members of our extended family have been born. There have been cuts and bruises, laughter and tears.
I remember being 10, celebrating my birthday with my family, grandparents and an aunt in Grand Junction, Colo. Starting at a new school, the third in a year, and how my pink Huffy bike was replaced with a “big girl’s” bike, a red 10-speed. I met my best friend on the first day of fifth grade.
Here I am now, three years from having a teenager, and less than six from having him behind the wheel of a car. Middle school, high school and beyond are just around the corner.
When you’re a kid, a year feels like such a long time. At 10, it’s only a tenth of your life. I don’t want to get into the math of what fraction a year is to someone over 30.
My son is now the one in a hurry to grow up, and the lesson that he should just enjoy being a kid isn’t one he’ll understand until he’s an adult.
All I can do is enjoy each moment while it lasts and treasure each memory.