Fifteen

My Dearest Terran,

Wasn't it just last year that you were placed into my arms, a wrinkled, red and bruised bundle ready to make his wailing debut into this world? My heart burst wide open with happiness the first time I heard you announcing your place in my world.


Perhaps it was last month when you broke eggs in the carpet, and then desperately tried to clean the mess away by rubbing them into the carpet. Even at the age of two, you wanted only to make Mommy happy. Oh, how you make me happy! Your crazy blonde "flop-a-hair" locks and baby blue eyes charmed me every time, and I couldn't help but chuckle at your cuteness. It wasn't long after that when you discovered the beauty in classical music, and questioned the stirring emotions you felt in your four year old soul.

Maybe it was only a week ago when you learned to ride your bike for the first time, or left me to join your friends at school. You didn't look back once you were on the bus that first day. I'm glad for that, you would have seen me crying as I stood there waving, trying my best to be brave.


I think it might have been yesterday when you left for school again, wearing a cast on your arm after flipping your bike at the neighbors house. I think you mumbled something about starting Jr. High. Or going to your first dance. I wasn't sure though, because I couldn't recognize your voice.

When you come home from High School this afternoon I'll still be here, waiting for you like I always have been. You will be different. It takes me a while to recognize the adult you are becoming. You sound like a man. You are taller than I am now, and your shoulders carry a young man's responsibilities. The more you grow up, and away from me, the more desperately I search for traces of the baby, the toddler, the little boy you used to be.


I still see him. He's there in your eyes, the way you still look to me for reassurance when things are uncertain. He's there in the smile that you seem to save only for those closest to you. He's still there when I peek in on you after you're sound asleep, as I watch your chest rising and falling in rhythm with your dreams. Your dreams have always been important, and I hope you follow them, wherever they may lead you.

Fifteen years ago I welcomed you into this world. You were my first. I was young and scared, but you made it so easy to be your mother. You taught me so much about life and about myself, and about unconditional love.


I'm proud of you. Proud of the person you are now, and of the man you will become. Happy Fifteenth Birthday Terran. I love you more than you will ever know.

xoxo
Mom

Lost and Found

LOST:
One snuggly little boy, blonde with blue eyes, who likes to give his mama big smooches and hugs. Could normally be found making towers out of lego, pushing little dinky cars around on the floor and clinging to his mama's leg if she tried to walk out the door.


FOUND:
One pre-teenage boy, blonde with blue eyes, who is leaving his mama soon to hang out with his Army Cadet buddies in Northern New Brunswick. He will be going to CFB Gagetown for two weeks this July for training camp. This handsome young man was discovered at a recent graduation in which he was promoted in rank from Cadet to Trooper. He closely resembles the child in above picture, but could not be the same person as this young man is clearly on his way to becoming an adult, and the last time his mother looked, he was still a baby...

How does this happen? I mean, aren't they supposed to stay little for a while so we can enjoy them? I have been sobbing my eyes out for the last couple of days trying to figure out what has happened to my small babies. They are replaced by equally pleasant, enjoyable (by times) good citizens who closely resemble the babies they once were, but still... Is it selfish of me to want my babies back, even for a little while longer? I wish I could keep them like this...

During a very moving speech from the Captain to his Corp, I found myself misting up yet again. His words still echo in my mind; "Look deep within yourselves and give it all you've got... Always remember that you can achieve anything you set your mind to. I believe in you.... You have all made me very proud this past year." I looked over at Terran again, standing so proud in his uniform, and was startled to realize that one day soon, he will be an adult. Already he is becoming responsible, independent, and making plans for himself that have absolutely nothing to do with me. He still asks me about my opinion, but he is his own person now.
His Cadet Captain told me later that I have "a great young man there".

I already know that. I welcome this new young man into our family, he really is a good, kind person. I'm just not ready to let go of my baby yet.

Yesterday

Yesterday I waited for my son to get off the bus.

He is twelve, and has been a treasure to me since the moment of his birth. He is my firstborn, and he is special. Sure, we have our moments when I am too overbearing, or he is too flip or careless with his remarks, but we have a mutual deep love for each other. We have always had a special bond, I think formed in part because of the fact that for a little while in our lives, it has just been the two of us. Terran, my special guy, my little man.

I began to think of all the things that make him who he is. He is moody, but he is twelve. He is also known to smell funky from time to time and have less than clean hair, but again, he is twelve. He likes to build things, mostly from Lego. He is an incredible artist and pays attention to detail in all his sketches. He skateboards. He loves his baby brother and his sister, and although he will not admit to either,I can see that he does. He picks on Madeline. He calls Connor his buddy. He struggles with shyness around adults and is uncomfortable in new situations. He likes shopping for groceries when it is just he and I, and we crack jokes about cheese and eat pickled eggs. He dislikes change. He is genuinely a good kid. He is my boy.

So I waited for the bus to arrive with my son.

While I waited, I thought about all the times he has kept me awake, how I wished that he would sleep for even two hours at a time when he was a baby. I thought about how squeaky his voice was when he was three, and how he knew the difference between a spur gear and a helical gear at that age. I smiled a little when I thought about how squeaky his voice was getting now, on the brink of adolescence. I thought about how easy he was to toilet train, and how he never wet the bed when he was little unless he had a fever. I thought about how suddenly he gets sick with a high fever, and for three years in a row he had strep throat on his birthday. I thought about how brave he was when he walked tearless from the neighbor's house last summer, holding his broken arm against his body as the other boys walked silently alongside him with his twisted bike. I thought about his fine blonde hair, his clear blue eyes, and how fast he was growing up, and away from me.

Then I thought of someone else. Another mother who lost her thirteen year old son last week in a tragic ATV accident. His funeral is tomorrow. I have known the boy's aunt and uncle for many years, and have met the boy, his twin brother, and his mother on a few occasions. The news of his death shook me to the core. I cannot begin to imagine the grief his family must be feeling. I wish the family peace and comfort in these dark days, and my heart breaks for his mother, who is living every mother's worst nightmare. I pray that she will find the strength to get through this horrible tragedy.

Yesterday I waited for my son to get off the bus.

When he walked into the house, I hugged him tightly and told him that I loved him. I told him how much he means to me as I held him close to me and kissed the top of his blonde head. And then I cried. I cried for myself, thankful that I had my son to hug me back, and I cried for the all the mothers who would trade their own lives for one more chance to do just that.

Mother's Day

Everyone who has ever had a child will share with you the joys and the frustration of raising a child. Many stories are humerous, some are heartbreaking, while others are simply so honest and real that they seem like your own.

The thoughts I share with you had their beginnings eleven years ago, with the birth of my son, Terran. With his arrival, I became what I always wanted to be - a mother. Nothing could have prepared me for the intensity of my own emotions, and never would I have imagined that such a small child could teach his mother so much. It was my first born son who taught me about sacrifice, devotion, and about a love greater than anything I've ever known.

When he was a baby, I would bury my face in his hair and breathe in the newborn smell of him. When he was a toddler, we were each other's best friend. I lived for his huge hugs and how he would press his cheek against mine and exclaim, "Snuddle cheeks!" My heart ached on his first day of school, when I felt as if I was losing a part of myself. I cried all that day.
I cried again, only this time tears of joy, when he rode his bike for the first time.

The traces of the baby he was have long since disappeared, and his need for my hugs and cuddles have been replaced by video games and playing with friends. By the moon glow at night, though, he is still my baby, and I make silent wishes for his happiness. He is my sensitive, loving child, perhaps the most like me. His spirit is easily crushed if I speak sharply to him. Beautiful music touches his soul. He enjoys the peace he finds in solitude. He is smarter than he knows. He has taught me how to be a mother. He has forgiven me when I made mistakes, and has loved me unconditionally.

I wish for my children all the things a mother wants for her child. I wish them radiant health, and a life full of love and happiness. I want to thank them for loving me as I am, and for accepting me even when I am my very worst self. Being their mother is a wonderful gift, and that is all I need.