MiniWarrior turning 11 has forced me to make some changes. Changes in his routine and changes in my Momma mindset.
He's no longer a little boy.
In a few short months he will start Middle School which will be a whole different world for him than grade school.
I have had to take a good long look at myself this past week and I saw how I've worked to keep him little.
This cannot be, no matter how much I wish for him to stay small, innocent and sweetly dependant on me.
I've begun to loosen my Mommy grip and have forced myself to begin letting him grow up to become the wonderful man I know he will be.
This weekend I went through my boxes of old pictures with him. Showing him images of himself as a baby and pictures of myself at his age.
"Mom, what was it like when you were 11?"
Images flickered through my head like a bad movie. The kind you watch late at night that haunt you for weeks after with an unbalanced feeling.
It was the worst time of my life.
Looking into MiniWarriors sweet, curious eyes I smiled and ran a hand through his hair smoothing down a wayward bang.
"Oh. I dunno. There were lots of things changing then." I said. Feeling a sense of accomplishment that even if I told the truth MiniWarrior would not understand the ugliness. That while he faced a time of darkness, it was brief and hadn't tainted his generous heart and sunny outlook on life.
This time, remembering the dark seemed somehow softer within the light of his happiness.
I created a tiny album for him of pictures he loved the most and he scampered off to play with it clutched in his hand.
I poured Lord V and I a snifter full of Scotch, clinked my glass against his in a silent salute and downed it in one shot.
6 years ago