Mountain biking, BMX biking. And his first BMX bike race. Did I mention he started last week? He didn't seem phased that he was the new kid on the block. The post-trophy quote of aptly-named Ryder:
I was so happy I could cryWhat he didn't know was that his mama could barely focus through her own misty-eyes. In the last days of 6, my boy has found a calling. His number-obsession, wild hyper-activity, uncanny attention to detail, high pain threshold and sheer grit serve him well on the track.
And oooh I love this boy.
Although he's growing increasingly stinky and lanky and lippy, when I peek in on him sleeping - his only moments of stillness - smell that wet wool smell and see him wrapped like a mummy in his great-grandmother's quilt, it hurts this mama's heart so good!
I have had so much more confidence in raising my eldest - my girl - and have from the start. I never read a book about how to raise girls. I am one after all. On the contrary, I started studying about raising boys when my fiercely strong-willed one was a toddler. And many days I feel like I don't have it in me.
A darling spiritual mentor once told me that children would "rub the corners right off". While it's clear our drywall has taken a beating, I think I show even more for it. Maybe one day I will look back and be able to see how it was all for good.
Another wise mama -and camping friend - encouraged me to imagine what a great man he will be: a leader an inventor, a left-handed creative that takes orders from no one. I could have kissed her right there around the campfire for gifting me with a new perspective. Although I seem to forget this way of looking at things more than I remember.
For now I just pray that I can be the kind of mother he needs. I know she doesn't have a fit over the dailies, doesn't hesitate to play and doesn't hem her boy in. Happy Birthday my fierce one! My heart swells with pride that you are mine, if only for this time.