120 Grit on his face

When my last child entered kindergarten 13 years ago, I celebrated by going out to breakfast with girlfriends.

Some moms really grieve this stage, but for me, I welcomed getting to run errands without being on a nap schedule and little fingers grabbing everything within reach.

When he was promoted from elementary school I embraced his coming adolescent years with anticipation. 

I figured if I could survive two teenage daughters, then I would be skilled enough to handle a teenage son as well.

His entrance to high school was a milestone that marked the beginning of his last four years of his high school career.

This is an exciting time for a young man.

Dances.
Dating.
Driving.

Ugh, I remember my stomach doing a flip flop at the sound of the dreaded 3 d's.

Each of those have their own set of excitement and fears all wrapped up together.

However, I have walked this road before.

Twice. 

So I think I would have a handle on what to expect right?

Nope.

Boys are a different animal all together.

It seems that one evening I tucked into bed my sweet little bear cub, smelling fresh from his evening bubble bath.

And woke up to a showered, cologne smelling full grown grizzly bear.

He has the scratchy 120 grit on his face to prove it.

This, I was not prepared for.

This, I grieved.

His soft little face would snuggle up to mine.
His small hands and arms he would wrap around my neck and squeeze me tight, promising me that he would never grow up because he loved being a kid so much.

He lied.

He keeps growing.
Up. 
And up. 
And up. 

Now have to raise my head in an upward direction just to see his bearded face.

His voice changed from a high pitched boy, often confused for with his sisters.
To a man, now confused with his dad...this he loved. 

I was often startled by the sound of a strange man in my home, only to find the shadow of what was once my little boy.

His love of Lego's, tractors, air soft and B.B. guns graduated to X box, real guns, cars and girls.

The bittersweet joys and heartache of growing up kiddos. 

Watching my child have one foot solidly planted in childhood and one foot stretching his toes into the shaky ground of adulthood.

Beaming with pride!
First try and no shaving accidents with little spots of tissue stuck to his face. 

I know, love at first sight. 

That's what I said too.