Little Men

The boys aren't babies anymore, to my despair, though it is wonderful to see them become little men, cooking, picking out their own clothes, asserting their opinion at every turn, and manipulating situations to their advantage.  They are as different as night and day, but at their core, they are both sweet hearted, compassionate, and fun people.  C. is rougher, more easily distracted, quicker in mind and body, and much more easy going.  J. is contemplative, innocent, immensely kind and nurturing, and hard headed.  He has a contagious, outrageous laugh that melts me.

When I was in high school, an adult mentor of mine was dying of breast cancer.  I will always remember when she invited myself and the other Senior girls out to the ball field at Camp Ne-O-Tez in the middle of the night to "talk about God."  The image most grafted into my memory from that night is of her weeping in THANKSGIVING to God, on her knees, with her arms stretched upward, fireflies all around her so that we could clearly see her, and her yelling to the Heavens, "Thank you, God, for letting me live long enough to see my son turn five, so I know what kind of man he will be."  She died not long after.

I look at J. now, who just turned five, and I agree. There's a lot of growing up to do beyond the age of five, but by five, many things are clear: His strengths, weaknesses, strongest characteristics, adaptability, and deep rooted nature...  I'm so thankful that God has allowed me the privilege of being able to stay home with him, to mold him and guide him, and to see what kind of man he will be.  Some of those traits I love, some I wish he didn't have because they're too much like me.  But overall, he's an amazing little man, and I thank God for every day I have with him.