In the midst of all the changes my son is going through, I find myself cherishing the remnants of his little boyhood even more. It’s incredible how much he has matured over the past year, transitioning into this new phase of his life. His fascination with electronics has grown, as have the depths of our conversations; he’s beginning to notice the world around him and isn’t afraid to ask questions.
I recognize that he’s growing up, but I’m holding onto the small things that bring me joy. Like the way he hugs my waist when he wants something, or how he still calls me “Mommy” when he excitedly shares everything he knows about Minecraft. It warms my heart that he’s still comfortable taking bubble baths with his little brother, even if he tends to hop out a bit sooner these days.
During our recent trip to the store, I was pleasantly surprised by how well he helped me select his school supplies. No more running up and down the aisles or dodging other shoppers. He did sneak away to hide in a clothing rack for a moment, just for old times’ sake, but when I said no to a $79 backpack, he calmly accepted my decision and understood why.
He has grown tall enough to reach the snacks in the pantry and thoughtfully grabs one for his little brother too. He enjoys picking out his own clothes, although his superhero-themed outfits are still a colorful mix. Recently, I showed him a clip of Gertie screaming upon seeing E.T. for the first time, and even though he buried his head in my shoulder, he would never admit to being scared.
One of the comforting remnants of his infancy is the crib blanket he still uses. He doesn’t carry it around, but when he’s tired or watching a movie, he knows exactly where to find “blankie.” His cheerful giggles while getting a haircut, especially when the clippers tickle his neck, remind me of simpler times. Oh, and he recently dozed off on my shoulder while we watched an episode of Golden Girls—don’t let him know I told you that!
Once terrified of water, he has made great strides this summer, confidently diving down to retrieve diving sticks from the steps. Bath time has also become a breeze; he no longer fusses over having his hair washed. His former fear of bugs, particularly moths and mosquito hawks, has transformed into a curious attempt to catch them.
As a new school year begins, I’m aware that many more changes await us. It’s my responsibility to prepare him for the world, helping him conquer his fears and learn to stand on his own. One day he will leave the nest, and I will ensure he is equipped with the tools he needs for life. But for now, I’m grateful that he still calls me Mommy, and I plan to savor these moments for as long as I can.
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In summary, as I navigate the bittersweet journey of watching my son grow up, I cherish the little remnants of his childhood. Each hug, every conversation, and the way he still calls me Mommy are precious reminders of the bond we share.
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