More About My Boy Growing Up

My baby Boy has become a man, and it happened right before my eyes.  It was a moment that has been under construction since the day he was born, but now it is complete.  There was even a spokesman who announced it, pronounced it, and deemed it official.  One moment, he was a boy.  He had a bedtime.  He had homework and chores to do.  But his responsibilities were small, compared to the heavy burdens that can often plague the adult life.  His tassel hung to the right.

And then, with a stroll across the stage, the receiving of a document, the offer of a handshake, and a few words spoken... everything changed. Well, okay, maybe not everything.  But it sure does seem like it, when you're caught up in the "Pomp and Circumstance" of the high school graduation ceremony.  But there are little things that have become part and parcel of our daily family life, that have suddenly ended.  There will be no more checking The Boy's progress on the SPAN account. (Student Parent Access Network: where the school displays a student's assignments, grades, attendance and disciplinary records).  He will no longer be the first one up in the morning, and the first to leave the house for the day. Certain teacher's names will no longer be a dropped into daily conversation.  And I will miss the sound of the Principal's voice in those near daily automated phone announcements. 

Of course, my baby boy is still lurking within this new man who occupies space in my house.  He'll still be asking me what I'm going to make for dinner, or if I'm going to make a family lunch, or what's available for an afternoon snack.  He'll still say "I know" when I gently remind him of a household chore that's on his schedule, that he'll eventually forget to complete... even though "he knows".  He's still going to argue with his little sisters, and complain about the noise they make or the mess they leave.  And of course he'll still be relying on me and Hubsy for the rent, electricity, cable TV,  internet access, and food.  Now, instead of nagging him about homework, I'll be nagging him about job applications, as his label has changed from "student" to "unemployed".  Some things never change.  Except the tassel now hangs to the left.

On another note: It was a difficult day for Hubsy, having had the old "snip snip" just the day before.  (You know what I'm talking about, right?).  As he should've been home with his feet up, instead he hobbled from the parking garage to the Performance Center and back again.  He sat upright, putting pressure on those lower regions, for two hours.  He stood up and sat down, and stood up and sat down, for the National Anthem, the senior's grand entrance, and for several people who just had to walk back and forth down our aisle.  But he suffered in silence, with a smile on his face.  No matter what part of his body was bruised and swollen, this was an occasion that he wouldn't have missed for all the ice and ibuprofen in the world.

Congratulations, and much love, to both of my men!  

My Boy Is All Grown Up, Mostly

I don't know where the time goes, but it sure does go, doesn't it?  How can it be that The baby Boy, that I was cradling in my arms not so long ago, is preparing for his high school graduation next week?  Wasn't I just teaching him to clap his hands for the first time?  Weren't we just attending those Boy Scout ceremonies?  Didn't I just take him to check in with his probation officer?  (Wait, that's a whole other story!).

I guess the time just got away from me.  When I sit down to think about it, what I've really been doing lately is taking him to sit for senior portraits.  And shelling out some unexpected big bucks for a cap and gown.  And taking those first steps in preparing him for further education.  Baby steps, of course.

It's hard to imagine that he's about to step out of the dark shadows of parental protection, and into the blinding light of the "real world".  I hope there's a wet suit under his gown, because once that tassel passes from one side of the cap to the other, there will be a wave of responsibility splashing over him.  His chore list will lengthen, and there can be no more forgetting to get them done.  He'll have to sweep the spider webs from his ten speed, and hit the pavement, so he can turn that vehicle from two wheels into four wheeled transportation.  Not to mention, it's time to start paying your way, Kid ... or at least part of it.  You're not a dependent anymore, you're more like a room mate, and you need to start chipping in for the Internet and the groceries, and the hot water.  You have to buy own underwear, and health insurance. 

I don't think too many things are going to change ... just yet.  He's not walking across the stage and out of our lives.  He's not even going to be leaving his room.  He'll still be wearing those damned black t-shirts, and and sucking down those Ramen Noodle Soups.  I'm sure that when he's not at work (at whatever job will have him), he'll still be glued to his computer screen, and trying to avoid his chores.  He'll still be asking me to interpret the instructions on the back of the brownie box, and where do we keep the measuring cups.  No, he's no where near ready to make that first hesitant leap from the nest.  He may be sprouting some wings, but they're still covered in that soft and downy fuzz.  It'll be fun watching those feathers grow in.

By the way, the measuring cups are in the same place they've been for the last two years, Boy.