An Announcement

As all good stories with my children seem to begin, we were in the car. Andrew and I were going pick his sister up at school when I noticed that he was dancing and singing along with the radio in the back seat.

Now for most kids, that wouldn’t be a big deal, but this is the same kid that covered my mouth when I would sing to him as a toddler, and today tells his sister that he’s going to vomit if she doesn’t stop singing or dancing.

I let him know I had seen him with a smile (aka huge, goofy grin), expecting him to stop as he’s always done in the past. Oddly, he asked me what bus he would have to ride when I changed his bus.

“No idea, Andrew,” I said still smiling, thinking he was trying to change the subject.

“I hope it’s bus 42. If it is, I’ll be in heaven.”

Heaven from riding the bus? Did he have fever? A head injury? First singing and dancing and then the bus? This was the kid that groaned every time I mentioned the words riding and bus in the same sentence. Something was certainly wrong.

“Why?” I asked, trying not to let him know that I thought he’d hit his head and was suffering from some sort of concussion.

“Because the girl I like rides that bus, and I’d get to ride the bus with her every day.”

Insert heart palpitations, then goofy laughter, then wild exclamations. “Really? You like a girl? A girl at school? What’s her name?”

“I’m not telling you, and you better not tell Cara.”

And so it begins. Where did my little boy go that said he never wanted a girlfriend and he was going to live with his mother forever? Will he really be ten years old in a few short months?

Eventually, I stopped the laughing and began interrogating my poor child about this unnamed girl. He then proceeded to tell me that this was why he hadn’t said anything. Well, then. How come I was supposed to answer all their questions when I was interrogated? I kept my questions to myself though, but not before asking if she liked him back. His response was how was he supposed to know. I didn’t say he could just ask. I don’t think he’s ready for that. At least I hope not anyway.

Then it dawned on me that some girl would probably break my son’s heart one day; some girl that wouldn’t love my son as much as I do. Oh, I’m so not ready for that.

My babies aren’t babies anymore. If I needed any more proof, my daughter brought two books tonight to read at bed time, but tonight she read them to me. When did that happen? I’ve read books to her since she was old enough to blink in response. I appreciate that she has become a fluent reader in first grade, but that was kind of my territory.

I appreciate their growing independence, but it’s bittersweet. Before I know it, they are going to be complaining that I share their stories with everyone, (Let’s keep the girl story to ourselves. I did promise not to tell anyone.) and who knows how many more of these silly stories they will provide for my (and your) entertainment. Guess that means I better enjoy telling them while they are still happening (especially before they realize that I share them with everyone).