The Crush

During the last year of elementary school most of the boys and all of the girls had crushes on one another. Some even went so far as labeling each other boyfriend and girlfriend. My darling son wasn't among them. Part of me worried, but another part of me wasn't concerned at all. I knew one day a girl would see what others had and at some point there will be more girls than any one boy should have. Even if there were only one girl he would be okay. JM has plenty of girl friends, three of his best and most loved are back home in CA.

But Texas is different and I've noticed that if the girls don't like you neither do the boys. Granted he told me about the crushes of all of his friends. Occasionally I asked him if like anyone. The answer was always no. Once I even asked if there was a boy he liked. That was met with a resounding 'eeeeewwww', but I had to ask.

This afternoon, my darling son waltzes in the door says he's grabbing lunch for him and a friend then they are going to the park. One his way out the door he drops the bomb. There are two girls he likes and has since the middle of last year, but they don't like him. Momentarily stunned, I mumbled 'Thanks for sharing, love you.' He stopped turned around and asked if I were going to tease him now. I assured him I wouldn't and I won't.

I'm pretty proud of how I handled myself. I was all nonchalant on the outside, but inside, I was doing the world's best Tigger impersonation and trying hard not to let my excitement for him show. But we'll keep that just between us, right?

Clean Up on Aisle 3!

Having a tween doesn't mean what I thought it did. I thought my son would, by now, clean his room by himself. It's simple really, all I ask is that his crap...excuse me, his very important, most treasured belongings, be put away where they belong. Much to my chagrin, I found myself in the position of upholding an edict this afternoon.

Apparently, even though I don't issue many, I need to be more careful about the ones I do issue. See, I have asked him for months to please clean up his room. It wasn't tragically messy, but crap was stuffed and piled in every nook and cranny, and I do mean every. I reminded him that if I had to come in and do it I would most likely remove his most beloved possessions without his consent. I thought I had my ace-in-the-hole when he decided that Jack and Daisy (his two 70 lb. dogs) would be sleeping in his room. Jack needed a new, larger crate. This crate would be identical to Daisy's crate. Each crate is 47L x 23W x 36H -- they are gargantuan. One takes up a huge chunk of floor space, two is just horrendous. We had the new crate and I was tasked with getting it Jack ready before Friday night. Completing my mission required reorganization of furniture and toy storage.

With trepidation I began the excavation of space. I hauled out everything...storage boxes from the closet, the bins of miscellaneous toys, all the games, more stuffed animals than any boy has ever had, and a cache of weaponry. Some I instantly set aside for donation, others I tossed (gasp!), and the rest got moved into another room. In case I wasn't certain that I actually have a boy, I would have figured it out today. I discovered rocks, twigs, bottle caps, paper clips, rubber bands, and pieces of heaven knows what. Oh, and a Zoo Pals pig paper plate with the eyes cut out - I think he was two when that was created. I tossed the pig face and put the rest of the rocks and junk in an empty shoebox I unearthed.

When I was done I closed the door and waited for the arrival of my darling child. Fully prepared to face his wrath with justification and stoicism, I was surprised when upon his arrival he was fairly bursting with excitement and asked me to cover his eyes and 'reveal' his new room. (Think he's seen one too many design makeover shows?) I did as he asked, he walked in and, well, here's the rest of the exchange...

JM: Awesome
Me: Think so?
JM: Yeah! Hey, wait...where's my...(frantically looking around room and into closet)...Mom, what you'd do with my? Where's my?...What's in the trash can? MOM! You threw out my pig mask? How could you?
Me: I told you if I had to do this I would clean it all out (said very gently).
JM: Yeah I know, I just wasn't expecting all of it to be gone.
Me: Monkey, what did you think "all" meant?
JM: Not everything. Where's my bottle cap? Where's my pebble from Big Bear?
Me: Big Bear? You were 3 the one time we went and you kept a pebble? Don't panic, everything hasn't left yet, you have 10 boxes in the other room and we will go through them tomorrow. You can pick 5 things from each box to keep. After that it's the toy box...
JM: YOU ARE NOT TOUCHING MY TOY BOX! How come only 5?
Me: Can I finish? We will clean it out. You don't get to keep all the toys, and stuffed animals. It's time to donate the older things.
JM: Okay, but where's my bottle cap?
Me: We'll deal with it tomorrow.
JM: Seriously Mom, my pig mask? Trash? My room looks great and Jack will love his crate, but I miss my stuff.

And so it boils down to a paper plate with holes in it. Did he look for his PSP? The 52 games for his GBA and DS? Was he even concerned about the GI Joes that he swears he can't live without? Nope. A paper plate, a pebble, and a bottle cap. Those are the only things he worried about. I can't wait for the argument that ensues when I firmly refuse to allow him to keep trash for another 12 years. And when he asks to please keep the lincoln logs that I swear he hasn't played with since he was 5, the answer is "Oh hell no!" I just hope I can keep him from out negotiating me. I can see myself offering the bottle cap in exchange for the lincoln logs and losing badly. And no edicts either, when this task is accomplished I'm looking for edicts anonymous. Can someone please just remind me?

When exactly will he grow up and am I really ready for it?

Tonight I sit marveling at the sleeping man-child that I gave birth to almost 12 years ago. This is the baby that my grandmother took one look at and said, "He's been here before." She was right. He has a wise old soul. The exact combination of innocence and knowledge that makes you pull your hair out one moment and stare in awe the next. In sleep he seems so innocent. It is then that I can see the man inside the child.

This boy has a heart as big as the sky, with a gift of compassion as warm as the sun. He can also be incredibly self-centered and obnoxiously rude. Sometimes he manages to be the best and worst in the span of a nanosecond. He thinks he's all grown up, but I'm still wondering when he's really gonna grow up. This child that cannot sleep if I have not walked him to bed and uttered the nightly exchange we have shared since he could repeat after me. This same boy looks forward to Saturday mornings so he can have snuggle time while we watch cartoons. And this young man doesn't want his friends to see me kiss him goodbye when I drop him at school. There are times when he seems more like a 5-year-old than an 11-year-old. When we watch westerns and he has to have his toy gun 'just in case', when he throws a tantrum, and when he asks the same question 20 times or whines for five minutes straight (actually the whining is more 2-year-old). But then, we're walking through the store and he slips his hand into mine, or stops what he's doing just to tell me he loves me, or he tells me that 24/7 just isn't enough time to spend with me. I know the time is coming soon when he will want to spend less time with me. I also know that, for a time at least, he will be emotionally withdrawn from me.

Still, I find myself asking 'when is this child going to grow up?' At those times I try to stop, breathe, and remind myself that he'll grow up when he's ready. And no, I'm not ready for it, so I will wait, mostly patiently. Because the reality is I love the moments I share with my child. I wouldn't trade a single snuggle, held hand, or I love you for one grown up second.

One of my favorite Trace Adkins songs, "You're Gonna Miss This" is about letting go of things too fast. I will miss this, but I will also remember this and treasure the little blessings this man-child gifts me with. I am lucky to be his mom.