Updated: July 17, 2016
Originally Published: July 17, 2016
“Mom, we have a situation,” my newly turned 12-year-old, Jake, declares as he crashes onto the couch next to me, breaking the rare peace I was enjoying while getting lost in a book. This better be interesting, I think to myself.
I glance at his unkempt hair, basketball camp dirt smudged on his clothes, and the sheen of sweat mixed with sunblock on his face. “Is it that you really need to take a shower?”
“Not even close, Mom,” he replies, flashing that familiar goofy grin. “I’m just bored.”
Well, that’s a headline news flash.
“Should I bring up the shower again?” I tease.
“Later,” he mutters, his fingers absentmindedly twisting the strands of his hair.
Ah, my little guy is weary. That simple gesture pulls at my heartstrings and takes me back in time. I can picture him in his crib, twirling his hair just before bedtime, peeking through the nursery door at preschool, and dozing off on the camp bus after an exhausting day. I remember a hundred moments, his eyes heavy, fingers spinning in circles.
I used to tell him to stop because it would create knots in his hair, but he never listened. I almost forgot that this small habit signaled it was time for bed. It’s undeniably sweet.
I can’t help but smile, grateful for this unexpected break in my solitude to share a moment with him. My husband and our middle child are off at a baseball game, and I decided to skip the 8:30 p.m. match—yes, an 8:30 p.m. game for a 9-year-old—to stay home with my other boys who have been out nearly every night this week. These quiet moments are rare; it’s usually a whirlwind of activity.
“So, how was camp?” I ask, even though I’ve already posed the question earlier, earning a blank stare and a half-hearted “fine.” But now, he opens up, sharing details about his day, his birthday, and his last baseball game, all while continuing to twist his hair.
I soak in every word before I gently say, “You seem tired, sweetie.”
“There’s an issue,” he chimes in, lifting his feet to rest on my legs. “I need a snack.”
Even through his socks, the aroma wafts up. “Oh, there is indeed a problem,” I reply, nudging his feet off my lap. “Now, go take a shower.” He slowly rises but pauses to lean down and give me a warm, albeit greasy and smelly hug.
I watch him, this almost-teenager, as he walks away. He’s grown so much since those crib days, but there’s still a hint of baby left in him. Each milestone brings a mix of joy and melancholy; I adore witnessing his growth in every aspect, yet with every inch he gains, I lose a piece of my baby.
I hear the shower turn on upstairs. Afterward, he’ll probably retreat to his room to read or play on his phone—he’s been increasingly disappearing into his world of friends, school, and sports. Setting my book aside, I get up to slice him an apple, peeling the skin just the way he likes it.
It’s not a problem at all.
If you’re interested in more parenting insights, check out this resource for home insemination. For a comprehensive guide on at-home insemination, visit Make a Mom. And if you’re seeking expert advice on fertility services, Johns Hopkins provides excellent resources.
Summary:
In the midst of the hustle and bustle of parenting a tween, moments of unexpected connection can bring immense joy. A brief interruption from a tired 12-year-old not only rekindles fond memories but also highlights the bittersweet nature of watching our children grow. Each small interaction, like sharing a snack or discussing their day, serves as a reminder of the fleeting nature of childhood and the importance of cherishing these moments.