They Grow Up So Fast

This week I filled out a “Schools of Choice” form for the very last time of Mr16’s school career, to keep him in his school for his senior year.  Also this week I was notified of the upcoming ACT testing and trotted out to the bookstore to purchase a strategy book that “guarantees a higher score” that will guarantee Mr16 admission to college and the beginning of his adult life away from me.  Things like this cause me to reflect on how I ended up here, today, when only yesterday I held him in my arms for the first time.

Do you remember when your child was born, and “They” said, “Cherish every moment; they grow up so fast?”  And there you were staring out into the vast future of your new life with this precious punkie, thinking, “I have YEARS and YEARS to enjoy this new little person!”  That was like, yesterday….and today that precious bundle of joy is 16, going on college?

Do you remember waiting for those “firsts”–like the first tooth, only to mourn that his cute little gummy grin was now gone forever?  A child’s life goes that way; marching steadily forward toward new firsts and growing up. 

I find myself caught in a whirlpool that lets me look back, see the present and look to the future at the same time, and sometimes find myself weepy.  Weepy over missing laying on our bellies coloring, weepy over pride at a music performance, weepy over college and the eventual “moving out forever.”

Right now, I’m struggling between hanging on to Mr16 for dear life and letting him go, all the while reminiscing: “Remember when we built things from blocks/read together/colored/had birthday cakes that were shaped like your favorite thing at the time/grew the mutant pumpkins/when it was fun for ME to be your Valentine?  When a kiss could really fix a boo-boo?  When a hug or a snuggle could keep bad stuff away?

That little boy that needed me as much as I need him is still in there, zipped up inside the young man with a beard and a life of his own, just like the cartoon.  I know this.  I know the best way to love him right now is to let him go out and explore on his own.  My logical self really does get this.  My emotional self wants to stop time and keep him close a bit longer. 

He’s talking of moving to California or Europe.  He needs to escape our Colorado cold and the local spring allergy season.  He yearns for adventures of his very own.  Not too long ago, it was me needing to escape the Iowa cold and humidity and find my own way.  Paybacks are a bitch.  I never went back, and rarely visit my parents, even now that they live in a warmer place. 

Thank goodness for new technologies like Skype.  I’ll be able to see his eyes when he says he’s fine and know for sure if he is or isn’t.  I’ll be able to visit with future grandchildren, read them stories and see them grow up even if I can’t hold them every day.  Every now and then I tell Mr.16 about how cool it was having my grandma right across the street when I was little……a little tiny guilt trip can’t hurt.  😉

Who knows.  Maybe he and I will share a second cup of coffee via Skype between Colorado and some little Italian cafe some day.  Maybe he’ll relent and live right here in town and we can share our second cup right across the table from each other.  Right.  😉

Zits comic strip by Jerry Scott and Jim Borgman.  December 2009.

Music is making the man

I went with Mr. 15 to his saxophone lesson today.  He’s very serious about his music and is currently talking double major: composition and saxophone for college.  He owns three saxes–two altos and a soprano–and has another alto (for jazz) and an oboe borrowed from CHS for the summer.  He’s teaching himself the oboe because he’s looked into college requirements for admission to a composition program and found he needs to have a wider background in instruments.  Music has become his passion and has provided him with a sharp focus for his future.  Plus–the part that fills my heart and squeezes tears from my eyes–it brings him JOY.  There’s nothing more wonderful than the joy that dances across his face when he’s talking about his favorite composers (John Mackey is one), or sharing music that his music groups have already played/will be playing (scroll to hear the music) or anticipating future years’ guest artists for The Best of the West Festival.  He has his music when he needs a place safe from inevitable teen angst.  He’s too big for a mom’s kiss to mend his hurts; I’m glad he has something that helps.  Sigh….they grow up so fast…I’m proud of the young man who used to be my little boy.  Yup–I’m a lucky mom.

Immersion

Right now I’m sitting on my front porch with my laptop…and Mr. 15–who chose to be out here with me–I’m a lucky mom!  It’s a lovely evening.  The triple-digit heat of today has been swallowed by the evening.  A thunderstorm and its lightning lurks just north of here.  Mr. 15 is flicking bugs attracted to the light of my screen so I can see what I’m doing.  Crickets and night birds are singing in one ear, and Pendulum’s new album: Immersion is playing in my other ear.  Mr. 15 and I are sharing his iPod.  He has immersed me in a fabulous variety of music I would never think to listen to, and has a great feel for what I’ll like.  I love this connection with him.  His iPod holds thrash metal, ska, pop, concert and marching band selections, and more–some of which he doesn’t share because he knows I won’t like it.  We have an entire summer stretching out in front of us for more evenings on the porch and ice cream on hot afternoons, and granola for breakfast.  Ahhhhh…immersed in summer!