My boy is nine. It seems like just yesterday he was a mischievous little imp with a quick smile. Now he's a messy boy, although still a bit mischievous. In the past week, I've had numerous people comment on how big he has gotten, how much he has physically grown. It's scary to be honest. He's my baby.
He has discovered boy humor, and is constantly trying to insult his sisters (even though his insults are usually made up of nonsense.) He is mostly loving, but prone to moments of grumpiness that I can no longer cajole him out of. Luckily, he still loves his mama best, and he understands that no matter what, I'm there for him.
We had a young boy die in our school district last week, an apparent suicide at 10. We've had a rash of suicides at the high school level in the last year and each one has shaken me, but this one, this one almost crushed me. I don't believe that we knew the boy in any of our small groups, but it still is so upsetting. How does a 10 year old even begin to think about their own death? How sad must you be, what bad things have happened in your life? All I could do was grab up my boy and love him, talking to him and making sure he knew how much I love him, how adored he is.
I work hard to maintain a relationship with my kids. I try to walk that line...the line where your kids respect that you are the adult and are trying to do what is best for them, and them still wanting to be around you and talk to you. It's like a tightrope, and I sometimes wobble. Hopefully I haven't fallen completely off without knowing.