Dear Son #1,
This day snuck up on me buddy, I’m not gonna lie. Well, it didn’t really sneak up, I just didn’t really think about it too much until I had to. Yesterday you turned nine. Wow. Yikes, the next one’s ten. I know you’re ready but I’m not sure I am. Maybe I’m in denial about a few things too. That’s quite possible. And I know I shouldn’t be but I can’t help it. After all, you made me a Mom.
I’m in denial that when I go to hug you, I have to lift up my chin a bit.
I’m in denial that you have real adult emotions like anxiety and Ennui (boredom but fancy thanks to Inside Out 2!).
I’m in denial that soon you’re going to be a bigger shoe size than me.
I’m in denial that you’d rather spend time with your friends now rather than your family.
I’m in denial that you need to shower a little more than your brothers. (Okay, maybe I’m not really in denial about that).
I’m in denial that you want to ride your bike to the bus stop or go into the library for tutoring BY YOURSELF.
I’m in denial that you really don’t need me as much. I think I’m in some serious denial about that one.
Last month you wanted to join the cross country team at school. So every Tuesday and Thursday after school you would run laps around the school with your peers. You didn’t tell me much about it and when I asked I had to remain satisfied with “good” or sometimes “fine” or on a really special day I would get “Good. I ran 7 laps today.” Rejoice!
A few weeks ago I got a text from a fellow mom asking me if Pieter made the cross country team (only ten in his grade were chosen) and would he be going to the meet the following week. Who am I kidding? I don’t know these things. When I asked you, you replied “yeah, the paper’s in my bag.” I stifled an eye roll and just made an embarrassingly big deal about it instead.
Last Thursday was the cross country meet. You asked me a few times leading up to it if I was going to watch you. I replied that of course I was and I was totally going to bring an “I LOVE PIETER” sign too. You rolled your eyes—so happy that’s happening now—but seemed pleased. On the permission form I confirmed that you would be going and coming home on the bus with your friends because, you definitely didn’t want mom cramping your style here.
When I arrived at the venue on race day, my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. There were hundreds of people there with schools from all over the district I later found out. After quite a while I found you with your teammates and selfishly cheered a little inside when you seemed relieved to see me. At the starting line you wouldn’t let me take a photo, but that’s okay, I snuck a bunch in anyway like the private investigator I have sadly become.
Before I knew it, you shot off like the Roadrunner among the 200 other Grade 4 boys; what a scary sight that was. For a loop that was 1.8km with half of it uphill, there was no way that pace would be kept up. Still, I Mom-Ran to the next spot where I could see you and didn’t have to wait long as you whizzed by me, red-faced and sweat dripping but going steady. I raced to the finish line and stood with the other eager-faced moms watching for you. Boys started filtering in through the finish line—all looking like they were going to lose their breakfast any minute—suddenly there you were tearing around the corner also looking like you were going to lose your breakfast. But you finished 36th place, leaving me beyond amazed. I helped you get to your backpack and water and once you had looked like your stomach was going to stay where it belonged, I went to head home.
“Can I come with you?” you asked.
“Don’t you want to stay with your friends and come back on the bus?” I questioned. I mean, surely he didn’t need me.
“No, I don’t feel good, I just want to go with you.”
So I took you home, got you showered, hydrated, fed and tucked in on the couch.
Maybe I was wrong about a few things. Maybe you still need me more than I think. I know that I still need you.
And maybe, just maybe, I’m not as in denial as I thought I was about it.
Happy Birthday my handsome nine-year-old. Remember I’ll always be there if you need me. There’s no denying it.
Love Mommy,
XOX
Love my blogs? I do too! Please share the love ~ subscribe, like, share ~
Don’t love my blogs? Well, maybe you shouldn’t read them anymore, just a thought.
Looking for more laughter and some useful(ish) content? Sign up for my newsletter “Make it a 9”.
dearsonlovemommy.com 