Sometimes I dress this kid up like a teenager on purpose. I give him a rock and roll tee and some denim, then BAM I can see what he might just look like at 12 or 13. It doesn't help that he is the spitting image of Superman and I've seen pics of him as a teen. The resemblance is startling, it really is. I compare the two and I suddenly start catching sight of what sports, high school, acne, and teen drama might look like on my own son. Ah! And I know it will come all too soon.
These littlest glimpses into the future, while they scare the heck out of me, are also oddly fascinating at the same time. During these catches of light my role as his mommy gets jarred back into perspective. All the time I have spent wallowing comes to a halt. I stop feeling insignificant and unimportant. I stop feeling sorry for myself and unproductive. I stop feeling depressed about the seemingly mundane tasks of my everyday. The negative stops and I start feeling something heavier, but in a happy way.
When I think of my Littleman's future I start understanding just how critical it is for me to help this kid not grow up too fast. I recognize just how special every single day of his childhood really is. I see my mommy role become as lofty as any CEO or practicing physician. I am important. The work I do in my home is the most significant work I will ever do. Where I am right now, showing this kid the ins and outs of life, is the only thing I need to be doing because all too soon he will be grown up and gone. He will be out tackling the scary world all on his own. I need to build the foundation so he can stand on his own two feet and hold his head up high. It is intimidating, oh yes. But it is also something I am meant to do.
Until then, we will just dress up like teenagers and play like toddlers.
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