One day this summer our family was driving somewhere in the van. Thomas was sitting behind my husband and when I turned around to look at him, it suddenly hit me in the face that he isn't a little boy anymore. Even though I know he is thirteen, something just suddenly struck me. He was sitting with his headphones and he just looked older.
In so many ways though, he is still my baby. For one thing, as my youngest, he is always "the baby". And he has such a tender and sensitive heart, and sometimes he still likes to sit with me, and he plays well with younger kids...so sometimes it is easy to still think of him as little himself. He still looks at the toy catalogs, and is just so sweet and innocent.
Yesterday, I subbed in a sixth grade classroom. At the end of the day, Thomas came by to pick up his duffel bag for his after school activity. The kids had all left, and I was chatting with another adult, when I looked over and saw this person in the doorway...my son. My not-so-little-and-not-so-young son was standing in the doorway with his peach fuzz on his upper lip and actually some height to him. It struck me again, that he isn't a little boy anymore. I miss those days, but I love watching the person he is becoming!
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