I'm mapping out some plans for next school year and fine tuning some plans already made. I enjoy this part of our homeschooling journey. And then I nonchalantly wrote "2nd grade" and froze. I literally just sat there for minutes staring at those words.
I tried to listen to the wisdom of mothers that had been here before me. I tried to not rush through the early years. I tried to savor it. Yet, as I was just walking along doing this life thing, I blinked and O is in 2nd grade. Another blink and it might be prom? Graduation? Wedding?
|O at a wedding when he was 3.|
Oh, sure, I know I'm being dramatic. I know I'm jumping ahead. I know he's still so little in so many ways; he still loves to play pretend, is scared of storms, loves to cuddle his momma. But I see the start of a man there too. A tiny man who wants to protect his brother or help the little girl with a scraped knee on the playground. A tiny man that wants to start to make his own decisions, even if it is just what book he is reading or how to spend his money. A tiny man that loves with his whole heart. And I'm overwhelmed.
I'm overwhelmed with the idea that I'm charged with raising this future man of the Lord. This future husband. Father. Friend.
I'm overwhelmed that my baby is no longer a baby and yet still is MY baby.
So, I called my boy over to hug. I held him just a moment too long and he started to wiggle out of my arms. I was interrupting his lightsaber duel. Interrupting his little boy day.
I breathe in and out again and in this moment, I know I'm exactly where I need to be. Life is good. I am thankful. I will enjoy this season. I will not rush it. I will savor it. And I will blink much slower.