It could be that I have this little comparison in the house that at this point can only be categorized as a baby, and he just SO doesn't fit into that mold anymore. It could be that as he gets older it stands to reason that I am also getting older and therefore all things just seem to be moving in that horrible directly of...well, growing older. And I am equal parts enthralled and horrified by this little person that is growing into becoming his own human being.
It is still just little things. I mean he hasn't asked to borrow the car yet, but it feels as though that could be a few mere weeks away. But he gets dressed by himself now. He actually told me not to kiss him in public recently. He doesn't yet know the benefits of lying, but he has figured out the benefits of manipulation. He just alerts you to it ahead of time. Case in point: Tonight he told me he had a tummy ache (which I know at this point to translate into a warning that a poop is in his near future). He then looked at me and said, "I tink dat mean I gonna poop." I smiled at him and nodded, and wondered when we could give up the "tummy ache" thing if we both know what we're really talking about.
When I asked him if he wanted to go sit on the potty he told me no. He said, "Mommy, I not gonna poop poop NOW... I gonna wait until after I be in bed for little while, den I call you and I say, 'Mommy, I hafta make a da poop' and den you hafta let me get outa da bed and go and sit on da potty. And den I watch Spiderman on you iphone while I make a da poop and I no hafta sleep!"
That would be brilliant, if he didn't alert me to the entire plan ahead of time. But it is coming...yes, it is all coming. I can already see him concocting intricate schemes and lies about how he is going over to a friend's house to work on homework but really he is going to the 7-11 to buy a pack of smokes. And I am just not prepared yet.
But there are also moments of pure sweetness that show me a different glimpse into my future. A glimpse of a little boy who was essentially raised by a single mother and who will (please let this be the case, please, please...) stand up for and protect said mother and learn to be "the man of the house." A glimpse of a little boy who, if I do this right and don't screw him up, is going to grow into one of the most wonderful men out there.
While eating lunch today a spider crawled across the wall. I am petrified of spiders (don't ask...it involves a skiing trip when I was 8 where a spider fell from the ceiling of a log cabin we were staying in and onto my head and crawled all over my face and my head and was stuck in my hair and I couldn't get it out and OH MY GOD I AM FREAKING OUT AGAIN JUST TYPING THIS...) anyway...I hate spiders and right now, there is nothing in this world that The Boy loves more than spiders. Nothing. He thinks they are the coolest thing on the planet.
So when the spider crawled across the wall I lost all color in my face, jumped out of my chair and just pointed to the wall with my hand covering my mouth (to avoid screaming and freaking out my child/ren). The Boy saw this and turned around and saw the spider. "Hi little buddy," he crooned lovingly. Then he looked over at me, poised to run into the kitchen and grab a paper towel and a shoe to SMASH it against the wall and end my panic attack, and said, "Mommy, don't smush it. I gonna take care of it..."
And I shit you not. He put his finger on the wall and let that horrific creature climb off the wall and onto his precious baby skin that I birthed out of my very own body...er...sorry, and he carried it from his finger, out the back door and into the back yard and put his hand down on the tree and let it climb off.
"See Mommy? It okay. I protect you. Spiders nice Mommy, you no have to worry. I make it all better."
Yes you do my son. Yes, you do.