I saw you just yesterday, and yet today, you seem to have grown a little more. Your face has filled out, you stand taller, and your shoes are definitely larger. I wanted to hold onto your childhood just a bit longer while I adjusted to the whirlwind of a new school year, but you’re already older.
You hopped onto the school bus without a second thought, and now the first day is just a memory. The clothes I saved from summer for this school year are already snug on you. Those once-beloved character socks? They can barely fit over your rapidly growing feet.
As I watch you play video games, I catch fleeting glimpses of the person you will become, hints of teenage moods lurking just beneath the surface. Your library selections have shifted from colorful picture books to chapter books that demand more focus. You even tried to convince me that school rules prevent kids from reading on the bus, making electronics a necessity instead.
Your appetite is astonishing, reminiscent of a famished tiger in the wild. Super Mario has been ousted in favor of Minecraft, and you can count down the days until your 8th birthday with impressive precision—your math skills are already surpassing mine.
Our kitchen counter is now overflowing with your schoolwork, but thankfully, all of it is finished, and we no longer have to attend meetings. You’re starting to grow weary of playing with your younger brother, even as you still look out for him, echoing my words to him, reminding me of the things I say while simultaneously giving me a good scare.
You’re pushing away from my hugs a bit quicker these days. You have your own agenda now. And even though bedtime comes with its share of disappointment, you no longer resist it; no more requests for water or repeated trips to your room. The little boy who once fell asleep by 9 p.m. can now stay awake until midnight on weekends, completely without a yawn.
At the pool, where you once panicked, you now confidently dive for sticks. You’ve developed self-control and a reasoning mind, and I can see that you need me less. Your vocabulary has expanded, and your thoughts are becoming deeper; you can articulate compelling arguments. The Tooth Fairy has lost its magic for you, and I was met with a raised eyebrow and a “Everybody knows that, Mom” when we discussed video game characters.
I still attempt to help you with certain tasks, but you insist on doing them yourself—and you’re absolutely right to do so. Yet, just the other night, you strolled down the hallway in your bear pajamas, and I couldn’t help but smile, knowing my sweet, innocent boy is still there, the one who tried to persuade me into buying electronics for the school bus.
The house remains adorned with your art projects. Those cardboard castles and homemade bouncy-ball obstacle courses have become a permanent fixture. For now, I’m still “Mommy,” and Dad is still “Daddy,” and you still light up when sharing your day with us. One night, after brushing your teeth, you came to find us so we wouldn’t forget to tuck you in.
I take immense pride in who you are becoming. While I want you to grow, it’s a bittersweet journey. I recognize that your reliance on me will change as time moves on. You’re gradually distancing yourself, and I sometimes wish you needed me a little more. But the truth is, you’re already older.
Resources for New Parents
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Conclusion
In summary, watching your child grow is a profound experience filled with pride and a touch of sadness as they inch closer to independence. Cherish the moments, as they change faster than you can imagine.