When I went to give him a little kiss good bye, he leaned his head back a little, and every so quietly he said "mooom, not here", with a wink and twinkle in his eye.
And so begins the separating of baby and mommy -- and boy and mother begins. I thought I'd cry or be mournful over this new chapter, but alas I am not. So I question why...why am I not lamenting this new shift in our relationship? Because somewhere in my brain, in my heart, I knew this was coming. Did I think at 8 this would be the turning point? No, I really did believe it would be middle school. But I think I've been training myself for this, somewhere in the depths of my consciousness I've been running a marathon to toughen up whatever hurt this change was going to cause.
As every morning goes that we keep putting off a decent hair cut, I had to remind my son that his hair needed some fixing before going to school today. We stood by the sink as I sprinkled water on his massive curls, and I did my magic by manipulating these ringlets to fall "flatter" than the mad scientist look he is now sporting. Any other day he'd take a quick look in the mirror, say thanks and take off. Not today. Today he sighed and said "Mom! This isn't my look -- stop making it flatter. I'm me and I'm puffy!" My boy is taking his first step in owning his look, his personality, himself.
I know something big is happening in that little creation between myself & my husband, but I have yet to learn just how great and grand it will be.