A 10 year old boy walks into a kitchen and tells a joke:
A man walks into a bar, and says "Ouch".
A mother pauses, thinks, and laughs. “That’s funny” she says. “That was a first” she thinks. He has told her a joke that she didn’t already know, that she found genuinely funny, and that wasn’t followed by “d’you geddit?” and an explanation.
Ten years ago, she wrote his milestones in a book. They came thick and fast. The first tooth, the first steps, the first words. They come less often now, but they still come. The first filling, the first soccer goal, the first real joke. She doesn’t write them down any more. Then there are the kind that she couldn’t write down anyway. They’re not “firsts”, they don’t stand out, they creep by slowly, and when she notices them, she is already looking back. He doesn’t need a spoon to eat peas. He doesn’t always choose from the kids’ menu in a restaurant. He sometimes empties the dishwasher in the morning, not because he’ll get a sticker on a chart, not because he's proving he can do it all on his own, but just to be kind. When she sorts the laundry, his socks are easy to muddle with hers. The golden window between his bedtime and hers is getting smaller; it’s more of a chink than a window already. The park is no longer about the swings and slides. She can’t dribble a soccer ball past him, but he can get one past her, every time, easily.
She needs his advice on school matters. She remembers it was she who decided it was time to replace the Bob the Builder lunch box, but now it is he who tells her that Spongebob valentines won’t do for fifth graders (though he can't tell her what will).
Soon will come the milestones hidden from her view. The first joke he hears that he doesn’t think he should tell her. She knows these days are not far off. Perhaps they are already here.
A mother walks into a milestone, and would say “Ouch”, but mothers don’t say that, and anyway, this one is a fun kind of a milestone. A mother walks into a milestone, and keeps on walking.
oh a poignant post...it's such a mix of pride tinged with sadness as they grow up isn't it? Beautifully put.
ReplyDeletePigx
I agree with pig in the kitchen.
ReplyDeleteThey do grow up far to quickly. Now that my daughter has started school she has become increasingly independant. Already SHE decides what lunchbox she is prepared to take with her. I'm starting to play an increasingly smaller role in her life.
Rosie (aka IngeniousRose)
By the way, tomorrow night (18/2) on the History Channel is a very entertaining documentary entitled "The History of the Joke." Apropos I thought.
ReplyDeletethey start developing exponentially at this stage. you can't keep up. i remember my sister making similar observations (though not as eloquently as you) when her oldest turned about 9 or 10...it was astounding to her, though also very right, that he suddenly had such a rich life outside of her, and outside of the home.
ReplyDeleteit is good that god didn't give me children. i would wrap them in bubble wrap and put them on a shelf and leave them there until they turned 18.
Very profound and a little bit sad, because those milestones do add up to a long distance, don't they?
ReplyDeleteThey grow away from you for awhile, but they do come back when they get older. Hopefully you love him as much as you did back then, and he loves you the same, although he may not show it.
They are treasures, our sons are. Our true little men. An experience I wouldn't have wanted to miss for anything in the world.
I am starting those scrapbooks. Now.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reminding me, Iota!
He is your first and you think you will remember each and every little milestone. You will, but a few years from now when they have all grown into little people, you may not remember which milestone belongs to which child. I sometimes tell a story only to have a child correct me, and then realize they are right.
ReplyDeleteWrite it down. It will please you to read it when he is seventeen. Trust me.
Sweet Irene's right - it's an experience to treasure, the privilege of having kids, but at the same time it's hard to see how fast they grow and change. In a few years you'll be going to bed before he does :-( and worrying about him learning to drive.
ReplyDeleteSweet post - thanks for the reminder to make the most of the time we have with them.
I have a ten year old fifth grader too. And you just made me completely tear up.
ReplyDeleteDamn it, woman. You're really good.
Top blog, as ever
ReplyDeleteYou're too good to give it up, you know
Charlesinparis
Oh, hello, not come across you before. Thanks for commenting on my blog and yes, I believe there are such things as jammers (not sure if thats what they're officially called or how it's spelt) - it was mentioned early on in the press, but seems to have disappeared off the radar recently. I also have a BA spy....Anyway, loved your post about milestones. If nothing else, writing a blog records those moments you might otherwise ignore...
ReplyDeleteI agree with every single positive comment. You've made me almost cry, dammit. I NEVER cry.
ReplyDeleteYou've got those milestones right here.
ReplyDeleteI just want to go hug my babies and keep them little just a wee bit longer.
Beautiful post.
Here's something to look forward to - when he gets into 6th grade (depending on his school) he may well be back at the bottom of the totem pole, a little overwhelmed, and back in need of his mom. At least that's what I found. And I still get spontaneous kisses even though he is now an inch taller than me. (Yes, he's huge!)
ReplyDeleteMothers and sons ~ tricky but lovely relationships. As little boys = big, energetic, expansive expressions of love. As middle boys = farther away, infrequent, subtle signs of love. As young men = (I can only guess/I'm not there yet) minds and spirits reconnect perhaps with different, more respectful and maybe similar shades of a toddler's tender regard.
ReplyDeleteMaybe there's this lovely circle that can occur between mothers and sons where affection remains the same, but it's the way those feelings get communicated that must mature and change.
I'm crying as well. And I was having a really good day....!
ReplyDeleteLovely thoughts here - I've a 10 year old boy too - I particularly like the idea of yours emptying the dishwasher by himself just to be kind. The kindness of our children - well observed - sniff/smile!
ReplyDeleteLovely
ReplyDeleteoh so bitter sweet! how they grow and change and become themselves. It is so wonderful and yet tinged with that touch of sadness.
ReplyDelete