He said our parenting days were essentially done.
That, although we would always be a presence in their lives, we had already done our part. The rest would be up to them.
Youngest Spawn, approx age 3 |
This is an old photo of our now 11th grader. In my mind, he's still the quirky, goofy kid he was in preschool, wearing two different color socks and mismatched shoes because he liked it better that way. I was not in the least surprised when in 9th grade, he wanted to dye his hair cobalt blue. Or when he let it grow from then until about a month ago, until it was halfway down his back. (No longer blue, though). Nor was I surprised when he came home from a friend's house with it all cut off again.
He can pick locks, transpose music in his head, and take apart and rebuild computers.I have no idea what he'll do in the world, but I have no doubt it will be on his terms and wildly creative.
Eldest Spawn, kindergarten |
I love this picture he drew. Notice the relative scale of the dog versus the dog walker. He still loves dogs. He never really learned to draw, but he does have the soul and the creative vision of an artist; only his medium, like mine, is words. He has already seen several of his plays produced and will be working through that process again this summer with a local theatre group.
Both Spawn, December 2012 |
We lit the candles and the boys started teasing us, asking what we got them for Hanukah. Without missing a beat, my husband and I both said, "potatoes!" The kids snatched up a bag each and started laughing.
I am not sure what I am more nostalgic for; the memories I have from when the boys were small or the small moments like "potatoes" that happen when we are all together.
Our job as parents is to ensure our children will be fine without us. I just didn't bank on success making me feel so damned sad.
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