This morning, my son Jason burst into my room, brimming with excitement as he showcased the telescope and binoculars he crafted from paper, tape, and staples. “Can I take these with me when I go visit Grandpa today? I want to show him!” he asked, his eyes sparkling.
“Absolutely! I think he’ll be thrilled to see them,” I replied.
“Mom, just so you know, they’re not real,” he chuckled, and we both shared a laugh.
“Can I get a big hug?” he asked, leaping into my arms and wrapping his thin arms around my neck. He planted a sweet kiss on my cheek, and I returned the gesture. His skin felt so soft, reminding me of the innocence that’s still present in his 10-year-old self.
What a stark contrast to his 17-year-old brother, Mark, who now sports a scruffy beard and has largely traded cheek kisses for a quick peck on the top of my head. Standing a good 5 inches taller, he’s definitely in a different phase of life. Jason, however, remains the only one in the family who still looks up to me, and I cherish this age immensely.
I’m fully aware that my time with a 10-year-old is dwindling; in just a few weeks, Jason will step into the realm of 11, bringing with it middle school, hormonal changes, and likely braces. As the youngest, this marks my final experience with this delightful stage of childhood, and I’m savoring every moment. He’s growing and evolving so quickly that it feels like I’m watching a time-lapse video; one moment we’re sharing hugs and reminiscing about his baby days, and the next he’s lamenting about not being old enough to drive or shave.
At 10, Jason is still a child at heart. He’s become quite independent, only needing a gentle reminder (or a million) to brush his teeth and shower. No longer do I need to hover by the bathroom door to ensure he doesn’t create a shampoo mishap.
What I adore most is that he still thinks I’m cool and smart. He approaches me with questions and problems, fully confident in my ability to guide him. Whether we’re at the library or grabbing a slice of pizza, he occasionally lets me hold his hand, a small gesture that fills my heart with warmth.
He doesn’t need me to wait with him at the bus stop anymore, but he still lights up when I show up. As a mother of two teenagers, this is a boost to my ego. So far, I haven’t received the eye roll that has become a staple from my older boys, but I know it’s just around the corner.
It’s a common saying, but time truly does fly. Just the other night at dinner, we were discussing the latest movies and everyday happenings, and I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by how grown-up they all seemed. It was all too much for me, so I decided to act a little younger myself. I playfully threw a spitball at Mark, who chuckled and returned the favor. Jason looked up with a serious expression and said, “Mom, we’ve talked about table manners. How many times do we have to go over this?” Then, he took a sip of iced tea and gargled it, causing all of us to burst into laughter.
As we cleared the table, those long, skinny arms wrapped around me once more, and he said, “I love you, Mom.”
Yep, I’m definitely going to miss being the mom of a 10-year-old. For more insights about parenting and the journey of motherhood, you can check out this post. And if you’re looking for at-home insemination kits, be sure to visit this reputable online retailer for fertility supplements. Additionally, for valuable information on treating infertility, ACOG offers an excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, cherishing the moments with a 10-year-old is a reminder of the fleeting nature of childhood. Embracing these small joys while they last is essential, as they pave the way for new experiences just around the corner.
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