When my oldest turned the big double digits this week, I realized that the days were long but the years are short. I know what that means now. When he was a baby—which was just yesterday, if I recall– I couldn’t leave the room without him wailing. Now he wants to walk to the park alone. I told him I’d consider it when he was 10. He’s 10 now, and I’ve done considered it. I thought the day was far away, but it is not. It is here. It is now. I wanted him to hurry up all this time, but now I want it to slow down. Fast.

Please don’t hate me for noticing what every other parent has observed before me. I knew it was coming but I still didn’t think it’d happen to me. This stuff happens to other people. The feet that fit in my palm are now the size of my own. He will be a man in less than 10 years. He will be taller than me any day now. The next thing I know, I’ll be the mother of a teenager, and what will I do. For his birthday, we gave him the multi-tool that SurvivorMan uses, and I trust him with it. I’m having one of those moments where I sat quietly and realized: This is going by. My mind is not ready for it. It’s like the thing you’re hoping if you just ignore, it won’t happen or it’ll go away. But when he ooh’d and ahh’d for a long time over his little siblings handmade cards instead of tearing into his present, I was certain things are different now. The signs were there, but now I have to read them.

He has a quick wit and a good reputation, but he is not yet the man he is going to be. I can see a shadow of it, though. It is good, but my husband and I are not yet done telling him all the things we want to say. He is a gift, but I see now that so is our time with him.

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