Simon Growing Up…
My six year-old has a problem. He’s getting older. Not just in age, but in maturity. He used to like Diego cartoons and cheap dollar store toys. But now when I put him in front of the television and offer up any cartoons that have singing or staring (see: Dora the Explorer, come on you know what I’m talking about – how she stares at the kids watching, expecting an answer) he rolls his eyes at me. “MOM,” he tells me, “I’m too old for this baby stuff.”
He’s six for crying out loud! When did he get “too old”?
Daddy is deliriously excited for him to get bigger. He needs his boys to help him work on things and lift things and go hunting with. And I guess in a way, I’m excited too. I wasn’t exactly an ecstatic mother carrying around car seats and diapers (or pull-ups which Simon still needs at night but refuses to wear) and I definitely am excited for them to start reading. Even though, Simon CAN read but has no interest in it, despite his mother’s anguish that he is rejecting the one hobby she lives for.
But there is totally a changing of winds in the house as Simon finds things to do a bigger boy would: skateboarding and watching hunting shows, computers and collecting weapons. Yes, weapons. Despite his mother putting her foot down at “No weapons until he turns 10.” He has a pocketknife, two rifles and a BB gun. Note: the ONLY reason he has these things is because he is SUPER responsible and takes care of everything he owns (almost in an OCD manner. When he played with board puzzles they were kept snug in a ziplock bag when he was 3.) He knows not to take these things out unless instructed and supervised by Daddy.
He spends hours on end shooting and cleaning his guns, learning how to sharpen and clean his knife and during the day when Daddy is at work, I’ll find myself in a corner by myself coloring hoping he’ll join me.
I was so excited to watch my boys take their first steps and utter their first words but a large part of me just doesn’t want to let go of the little guys they once were – where they depended on me for everything: shelter, comfort, entertainment. Now, Simon might just be able to go live in the woods by himself just fine. Well, maybe not yet. He still has bad dreams and needs his sheets cleaned.
Until then, a boy still needs his mother.
Article source: http://www.zimbio.com/Writers+Blogs+on+Writing/articles/lG4uP_uZvrM/Simon+Growing+Up
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