9 Yr.
I am beginning to realize that life will never settle down, that parenting will never become any less chaotic, and that, despite the chaos, it has only gotten better and I assume it will only get better from here.
He truly has a personality, it's incredible to see, and he is smart (although of course every parent thinks this) and his view on the world is complex in ways that I can only hope to get - he is optimistic but so realistic at the same time and I want to take credit for this but I don't know because so much of the time I feel that I lean far more towards the 'realism' side of the spectrum than the 'optimism' one.
But he is not always a little angel, he can also be mischievous and silly and plain annoying - like when my mom comes over and he chooses that moment to use the word that his friend taught him at school... it's as if he wants to annoy me in front of my mom. Bedtimes are a daily struggle to first make him come inside from playing with his friends (and sometimes I want to let him stay outside because he looks so happy and pure and carefree and I want to keep that feeling inside of him for as long as it will stay, but then I know the next day he'll be sleep-deprived so..) and then to make him take a shower and then to convince him that he truly is tired and he should sleep. But then he looks peaceful when he sleeps and even though I do not rock him to sleep anymore we still read books and most of the time I read to him but sometimes he reads to me and he is so smart and so good and it is amazing (I'm far too much of a proud parent, aren't I?).
Despite gushing about him a little too much (especially at parent-teacher conferences), I do feel a sense of pride at who he has become. Yes, he is rude from time to time and he doesn't know exactly how to censor himself, but he is intelligent and kind and a truly decent person and every time he wakes me up on weekends by climbing into my bed and singing to me, I feel like I've done this right.
Dinner conversations have become something I look forward to, through long days of work and preparations for dinner - when we actually sit down and I ask him how his day went, he answers me with such honesty and genuine excitement for what he's learning, for the interactions he's had in the day with his friends, with his teachers. He grins and occasionally gets up from the table to demonstrate something in more detail, like some funny jump someone did off of the swing set at recess, or some kick someone did in gym. He tries out his best jokes on me (or, he thinks they're his best jokes...) and I tell him about my day and occasionally ask him for advice on stupid things that occur at work and more often than not he actually has something decently helpful to say in response...
These conversations are truly the highlights of my day and while I may miss the tiny baby boy who cuddled with me, or whose clothing was so tiny and cute, having an actual wonderful beautiful child is so amazing.
He truly has a personality, it's incredible to see, and he is smart (although of course every parent thinks this) and his view on the world is complex in ways that I can only hope to get - he is optimistic but so realistic at the same time and I want to take credit for this but I don't know because so much of the time I feel that I lean far more towards the 'realism' side of the spectrum than the 'optimism' one.
But he is not always a little angel, he can also be mischievous and silly and plain annoying - like when my mom comes over and he chooses that moment to use the word that his friend taught him at school... it's as if he wants to annoy me in front of my mom. Bedtimes are a daily struggle to first make him come inside from playing with his friends (and sometimes I want to let him stay outside because he looks so happy and pure and carefree and I want to keep that feeling inside of him for as long as it will stay, but then I know the next day he'll be sleep-deprived so..) and then to make him take a shower and then to convince him that he truly is tired and he should sleep. But then he looks peaceful when he sleeps and even though I do not rock him to sleep anymore we still read books and most of the time I read to him but sometimes he reads to me and he is so smart and so good and it is amazing (I'm far too much of a proud parent, aren't I?).
Despite gushing about him a little too much (especially at parent-teacher conferences), I do feel a sense of pride at who he has become. Yes, he is rude from time to time and he doesn't know exactly how to censor himself, but he is intelligent and kind and a truly decent person and every time he wakes me up on weekends by climbing into my bed and singing to me, I feel like I've done this right.
Dinner conversations have become something I look forward to, through long days of work and preparations for dinner - when we actually sit down and I ask him how his day went, he answers me with such honesty and genuine excitement for what he's learning, for the interactions he's had in the day with his friends, with his teachers. He grins and occasionally gets up from the table to demonstrate something in more detail, like some funny jump someone did off of the swing set at recess, or some kick someone did in gym. He tries out his best jokes on me (or, he thinks they're his best jokes...) and I tell him about my day and occasionally ask him for advice on stupid things that occur at work and more often than not he actually has something decently helpful to say in response...
These conversations are truly the highlights of my day and while I may miss the tiny baby boy who cuddled with me, or whose clothing was so tiny and cute, having an actual wonderful beautiful child is so amazing.
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