My Boy Growing

You’re 8 and ¾, almost 9. You’re growing fast; your brain is beating your body in the race, and although you’re the smallest in your 3rd grade class, you’ve got one of the biggest personalities. You are learning new things everyday, about the world around you, about your family, about yourself, and about where you fit into everything. You have big ideas and you want to share them all. You believe, deep down in your gut, that your opinion is the most important. I believe the same about mine, which makes for some messy headlong crashes at times. We argue every day and while I’ve determined I won’t continue, somehow each day you manage to engage me once again. I plan for forced stand downs, like the US in the Cuban Missile Crisis, and you, unlike Cuba, are not fazed by the size of your opponent. But we’re working on it.


I realize you’re trying to figure things out, what’s important and what’s not, what deserves a fight and what isn’t worth the effort. Sometimes I forget that while I see no real value in some of the issues you chose to debate, they are extremely important to you. Please forgive me when I fail to recognize the largeness of your world, even when it seems small to me. And I will do the same when you assume as much about mine. I know you don’t understand why I limit you in so many ways. Oh that I could make you understand…I place some limits to protect, and others to preserve, and still others to balance who I believe you’ll be someday. And I fail, too. You already know it, but I want you to know that I know it too.

There’s another side to you, too; a softer side. This side of you still wants to lay your head on my shoulder when we watch movies together. This part of you wants me to laugh at your jokes, as silly as they are, and hear all the important information you tell about the happenings on the playground. This side is the one that still on occasion asks if you can sleep in my bed when Dad is away. This side still takes my hand when I reach for yours in a busy parking lot or store. This is the side that you’re trying to give up, but don’t really want to yet. This is the side that wars with that independent part of you, the part that wants freedom and space and opinions. This softer side wants to hold on to my arm when we pray together at night. This side longs for my approval.

These warring worlds in which you live make life difficult. As hard as it is to believe, I understand the struggle and I know the pain that it can bring. Soon the more independent part will have the louder voice, and you’ll want to lie close to me less and less. This louder voice will tell you to keep daily happenings to yourself, that I won’t understand, or care. (And please forgive me for the times I communicated as much.) The part of you that needs to be free will continue to resist me, and I will keep working to hold you somewhat close, even when you push away.

But for now, for now I will remember that there is still a softer side. I will quietly celebrate that you still take my hand when I hold it out to you. I will try not to notice that sometimes you don’t take it right away – I will simply be glad you take it at all. And I will purpose to not hold on to it too tight, because I know you won’t be 8 and ¾ forever. 9 is just around the corner, and so very soon you'll be grown.