"Mom, can I walk on this side of the street, and you walk over on that side of the street, please?.."
That was Jackson last week when we were walking to school around quarter of 1 on a nice cold weekday. He claims the separate walking, with I and my two little ones in the double wide on one side of the street, and he, on the other, is to give him practice for next year.
Apparently he feels he's ready to walk to school without me, next year. Because naturally he'll be in first grade, and whereas I will need to wake up a bit earlier to make sure he has the most coolest boys brown sack lunch in the history of 1st graders, he's determined it's time to walk the walk along, without his mom.
Since when did he and Sulli decide it was time to just refer to me as, "mom?"
Makes me feel as though I'm dressed up in bright big hot pink rollers with a shower cap over my head, while I walk outside to get the newspaper in my bright brown and yellow to my knees house dress, only to get a gust of wind to take that purdy dress for a wind walk of viewable Little Bo Peep ruffle panties.
Come on, really?
House dress perhaps, while wearing white socks and black shoes with the laces untied.
But pass on those ruffled panties.
Makes me itchy just thinking about it.
Moving on, every day since last week,he walks on one side of the street, and I on the other.
He's growing up.
He's ready to explore.
He's gaining confidence within himself and the shift is apparent with how much he values his own peers opinions.
Yes, I'm losing my sheep.
It's not always easy to see growth, because it happens so fast.
That's the problem.
It's not that I don't want him to grow up, because that's the natural way of life.
It's just that it's going to fast, and I'm trying to appreciate how time runs when you're a parent, but even when I have it under control, and can actually see the changes in my sons, like you would a zoom speed of a flower blooming, it's still moving too fast.
That's the problem, the speed at which it all occurs. I can't get it under control, the speed of parenting and how fast my boys are deciding to grow.
I try very hard to enjoy the phases that they're in now, even the dark days, even when I vent.
But no matter how slow I take things, or how much I observe, I see time winning the race over dear old crusty mom.
Yet, it's a comfort to see independence in my eldest son. I know I for one have always had that type of spirit about myself. "I'll figure it out on my own. I don't need you, or anyone, to tell me how to walk or cross the street. I can do it, and when I fall and skin my knee, I'll get right back up with the scar as a reminder, but I'll still carry on."
So to see Jackson growing into that type of person it's incredibly haunting to watch.
Like I'm viewing me through a childhood male version looking glass.
You can imagine the smile on his face wide and joker-esque, when just last week as he walked the last leg of the sidewalk towards his classmates, the bus turned down the corner.
Why the smile?
Well, that's the aftermath of this final story, his classmates down at the end of the sidewalk, lined up near the chain link fence, Jackson still a bit of a way to go, and the bus roars around the corner of the block. Soon to be parallel to the sidewalk and him. There was nothing unsafe about this situation.
"RUN JACK!" Exclaimed his class.
"BEAT THE BUS!"
Little Jack did just that, with a turn to his left to listen for the bus with his ear, and then a turn of his head to face forward again, he took off running. His backpack flopping along with him, and his "key chain decorations" attached to that very back pack were flinging around, clinking to the sounds of his running footsteps.
The footsteps that were striving for the winning ticket of beating the school bus to the final destination. He on the side walk running just like Clark Kent did the day he beat the train when walking/running home from school.
He did beat the bus.
His classmates were overjoyed!
"JACKSON YOU BEAT THE BUS!!"
"HEY MOM, guess what, JACKSON BEAT THE BUS!"
The kids haven't stopped talking about it.
Being the mom that won't wear ruffled panties, but has lost her first sheep, I'm proud to say that as sad as I am to see one phase down, I am proud, so proud to now be a mom to a Super Hero.
Amazing what happens in Kindergarten, they go in like sheep, like little lambs, and they emerge with more powers then All the Marvel Superhero's.
I let him go.
When I did, he flew.
Welcome To Crustybeef~
On a side note, that story yesterday wasn't directed about me. It was in a certain sense, but I don't think the way that some of you thought.
Read the label, it was actually a role reversal.
I'm off to watch my other son Fly his way into preschool this morning.
All is good.