Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

As a mother of two young boys, I was always excited for them to reach the next stage. When they were infants, it was crawling, then talking and walking. When they were toddlers, it was getting to school and riding the bus, moving from one grade level to the next. I couldn’t wait for them to develop into their own personalities and see who they would become.

Then my oldest turned 11 and hot wheels and Disney movies were replaced with door slams and eye rolls. His childhood came to a screeching halt as he practically poll vaulted into the thick of his teenage years. My little sweet boy was gone and in his place is a closed door. I’m pretty sure he is behind it, but he seldom comes out to prove it.

In the rush to see him grow up, I am now struck with the overwhelming feeling that I have missed so much. I see flashes of the sweetness, and there is oh so much goodness in him now, but the simple joys of childhood are lost to him. Well maybe not lost, just pushed back as he tries to distance himself even further from being a kid.

Then there is my youngest. I am sitting now listening to the sweet sounds of the search for the perfect Lego. He should be doing his online school work. He should be dressed, but he is wearing one piece elf pajamas. At 12, I had expected him to be scratching and clawing his way into the almost adult struggle that we call the teenage years, but instead, we are turning on The Santa Clause and later he may build a fort.

The stark contrast in my two children’s path to adulthood used to worry me. I wouldn’t be the first mother to fret that their child wasn’t quite on course for where they should be. This boy has and always will move and grow in his own perfect timing, and I am relishing these moments and the simple pure joy and excitement he brings to everything he does. I am still excited to see who this boy may be when he grows up. My dreams and hopes are full to over flowing for both of my children. But for now, I can wait.

My wish for you my sweet boy, hold onto your childhood with both hands, I know I am.