Change

"It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.” ~C. S. Lewis

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves …” ~Anatole France

“Change is inevitable - except from a vending machine.” ~Robert C. Gallagher

He’s always been what I call a “snuggle-bum,” but lately our son (who is approaching six years old) has begun showing his “I’m too cool for you, Mom” side. In a way I am disappointed. Not hurt, of course, for I want him to grow up and be independent, capable, and on his own. But a trifle saddened - he’s my baby, you know.

Sometimes I’m the coolest mom in the universe and other times he is completely embarrassed by me in some kind of pre-adolescent foreshadowing. Sometimes he is most loving and affectionate, crawling into my lap and reverting to a sort of cutsie talk that he assumes (rightfully so) will grasp Mommy’s heart. “Mommy want my snuggles??” At other times, however, he turns away from my advances, crossing his arms with a humpf, and declaring, “NO KISSES!”

He’s funny about it. Most days he tells me I can only give him four kisses for the whole day. I am usually able to bargain with him, though … that or steal extra kisses in a way that makes him laugh. Recently I got him to agree that I could give him one thousand kisses in one day. Now, of course, these weren’t all sweet, heartfelt smooches. Rather, most of them were machine gun kisses, delivered to his cheeks and forehead thirty or forty at a time before he would finally make me come up for air. Sometime in the late afternoon, at about 700, he decided he didn’t want any more, but you know, a deal’s a deal. And so by bedtime, a thousand he received. (After he fell asleep, I snuck in three or four more just for good measure.)

This is the same kid who decided to sell his train sets this weekend at a garage sale; all of them. “Are you sure you’re sure buddy?” I asked one more time, realizing I was not quite ready to part with his babyhood. “Yes,” he replied, getting quite annoyed with me. “Why? You don’t want me to grow up or something?”

Ah, wisdom beyond his years. (I put a Thomas engine away for safekeeping.)

Our daughter asked him today, “What do you want to be when you grow up, bub? I don’t even know.”

He said he didn’t know either. I reminded them both that last I heard he wanted to live with mommy and daddy for the rest of his life. Typically when he has said that to me in the past, I have responded that “I would really like that, buddy! Of course, if you ever change your mind, that’s okay, too. We’ll understand.” I am not sure if he’s completely embarrassed by the notion that he might one day get married, or if he can’t fathom the concept of choosing a wife over mom and dad, but I’m sure the day will come when he can’t imagine life without a certain beautiful woman by his side … one he calls by her first name, anyway.

So when I reminded him of that today he responded very enthusiastically. “Yeah! I am going to take care of mommy and daddy forever.” Oh, how sweet! But, are you going to limit me to four kisses a day forever??

It’s interesting to watch him as he wavers between toddlerhood and a “you’re-embarrassing-me-and-I’m-too-cool-for-you” childhood. My baby is growing up. I guess it’s inevitable. Not that I would want to stop it, though, even if I could. Well, maybe slow it down just a little. :-)