My oldest, R, is eleven. Well, eleven and three quarters really. I can't bring myself to think about him turning twelve, then - GASP - thirteen!
When I think of how he'll be graduating to high school this time in two short years, my eyes well up with tears. I don't know how I'll ever make it through that ceremony. I'll be a mess, I just hope I'm not going to be the only mom bawling uncontrollably, and I certainly hope I won't embarrass him.
R is such a great kid. I don't think I sing his praises enough. He's cooperative, helpful, patient, kind, and most of all, so smart. He's pretty much a straight A student, which as I'm seeing with L's struggles with his studies, is quite an achievement in this school! I take it for granted too much that he just does his homework without being asked, he studies for tests, and comes home telling me he has an A on yet another test.
And now, he has reached another milestone. My baby boy now wears deodorant. Taking him out shopping to find a scent he liked seemed like such a huge thing for me. It reminded me of when my mom took me out for my first bra (even though I really didn't need one).
Every day that I'm frustrated and sick of the daycare business, I just need to remind myself of how it allows me to spend more time with my two guys than if I was working a 9-5 (or similar) job.