There comes a point in every mother's life when it smacks her right in the face that her baby isn't such a baby any longer. Actually, there are several of those points in a mother's life. However, there is always ONE moment when you really and truly acknowledge it and stop running in the opposite direction screaming "NO NO NO.... my baby is TOO still a baby!!"
I think I may have run straight into that moment this weekend. (Personally, I think that moment is a sneaky moment, and while you are busy running away from all of the other moments, it creeps along the alley right next to you....waiting for the perfect moment to plant itself in front of you when you're not looking. And then BAM! Knocks you flat on your backside.)
I may or may not have mentioned here at some point that Mouse is back. (You'll have to search my blog for her; there's just a couple too many times I've mentioned her for me to want to link them all.) The Teenager has been hung up on her All. Year. Long. Apparently, persistence and friendship have paid off for him. I've gotten used to the idea of him having girlfriends. I've accustomed myself to seeing him hold hands with someone, and give her a small kiss goodnight. I'm even able to stop myself from separating them on the sofa and sit myself between them when she's over at our house hanging out. But this time around? I think she's a bit more important.
He's asked me to take her along when I drop him off at the airport next week for his visit with his grandma. He's asked me to bring her when I pick him up. (Really....he'll only be gone for 4 days. Sheesh.) He brings her to Bug's baseball games. And they laid on the sofa together and he just held her, lightly stroking her arm, while they watched movies at my house this weekend. The really hard part, though, was when she curled into him and they fell asleep.
When did my baby, my beautiful little boy with big brown eyes who slept with stuffed animals and Mickey Mouse sheets, grow into this man? And how in the world am I supposed to let him go?