Our boy, our baby, our youngest, Adam, turned twelve today. Which meant lots of things, including our sudden burst into song in honor of Adam's day.
It also meant I went through my night-before-child's-birthday weepy
So the boy who went to bed the night before, who was engrossed in his book, fighting heavy eyelids, who wrapped his strong arms around my neck and kissed my cheek, who told me how much he loved me, that boy is now one year closer to being something other than, well, a boy. He certainly won't be a little boy. But there were moments, when he sat there opening his gifts, that I still saw that child, mixed in with the features of a near-teen.
His sweetness, something Adam possesses to his core, remains evident in his look, his spontaneous hugs, his thoughtfulness. There's a kind of humor, a knowing, a whimsy in his demeanor. This is Adam. It's just who he is.
I have no wish to keep him a child, even if that were possible, I wouldn't want that. I am simply acknowledging that there are changes afoot, that he will soon be transforming, that these moments are fleeting. I only want to see my children, really see them, as they grow and change.
I think he had a good birthday. He seemed pleased, especially as he got to know his new tool for all that movie making he does. I know we had a good day with him. He set up his new game, showed us his latest Minecraft adventures, including this video, which we watched three times (and cringed at the uh, challenged singing, trust me, hearing Adam's belly laugh is worth enduring any awful singing). Since there was nothing great playing at the movies, he elected to tuck into a favorite series (our second go-around), with dinner of a veggie plate, cake and ice cream. Once in bed, I kissed him goodnight and he scrunched me (because that's what Adam's hugs are like) a little harder. "I had a good birthday, mommy. Thank you. So much," he said. He's twelve, now. But he'll always be this sweet little boy, too. Maybe you understand?