Today my first born is a teenager. That is right... my kid keeps getting older and somehow, I do not. Strange how I can still be that 26 year old lying in that labor bed wondering if my baby was a boy or girl... a Hannah Catherine or a Nicholas August and meanwhile those years just continue to tick by and Will (who obviously was neither a Hannah nor a Nicholas) gets older.
I am not what I would consider overly sentimental when it comes to my kids growing up. I don't cry (too much) when they go to preschool or kindergarten. As a matter of fact, I was recently given a survey by the kids' school about kindergarten preference for Lucy. Would I want 3 days a week full day or 5 days a week full day? I hope they don't think I'm a horrible mother when they see the comment "How about adding weekends as well?" I mean sure, seeing my youngest off to kindergarten closes a long time chapter in my life of having a child home with me for the past 13 years, but it also opens up an entirely new chapter as well. And I enjoy watching my kids grow and develop and reach new milestones. I don't grieve what they once were but rather embrace who they are morphing into.... most of the time... when they are not acting like shit heads. And since I am not getting older, there is no reason to be sad!
But this boy turning 13 is different. I find myself flashing back to the first time I saw him, heard him cry and held him. His giant toddler looking hands were the first thing I noticed when he was born. I distinctly remember his cry as NOT annoying like some babies (damn good thing because it is ALL he did for 6 months straight, when he switched from cry baby to grumpy baby who only ever wanted momma). He was loved and spoiled by all. He was the first grandchild for John's parents and the second for mine, but the only in town. As a toddler, he quickly learned that his parents had a quirky sense of humor and he developed one as well. He formed a deep bond with my sister Maggie, who lived in Columbus for a while when we did. He could not say "Maggie" and pronounced it "Geek", which was so perfect... and stuck. She is simply Aunt Geek or Geekie as my kids call her. Even John has said "Did you talk to Geek today?" It's just as normal as ever.... and ever so fitting :)
As Will has grown, I have noticed that he lacks a terrific amount of self confidence. It really is interesting as he also acts like a know-it-all so much of the time. I am learning that the two go hand in hand. I try to get him to see what I see... a funny boy with a hugely generous heart who is also sensitive and sweet (except when he is evil to his siblings). Some of the acts of kindness I have witnessed him doing literally take my breath away. We never go downtown without Will bringing some of his money to divvy out to people with cardboard signs. We nearly went broke in Chicago with Will handing out money left and right. He even boxed up part of his lunch and gave it to a beggar sitting outside the restaurant. Will cannot stand to see anyone suffer. He makes me want to be a better person. And I must say I am a better person simply because I am his mother.
He is currently training with John to run the Cincinnati Mini Heart Half Marathon at the end of March. Now this has been amazing to watch. You see, Will is an extremely lazy kid when it comes to doing anything physical. He's got an excuse and an ailment for everything and it drives me crazy. But this has been different. He has been running almost every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday with John. He always has the option of opting out and yet, he never has. He is up to a long run of now 7 miles and doing very well. I know that he is experiencing what every runner does when they exceed a distance they never thought they could run. It is very hard to explain. Running is very hard but yet unbelievably rewarding and satisfying and it boggles my mind that it is clicking for him this soon.
Maybe 13 is hitting me a little harder because at 13, Will is learning what took me 35 plus years to figure out (weird because I'm only 26). That with hard work, patience, consistency and determination, you can achieve what you once considered unachievable. I know he is proud of himself. I told John the other day that he seems different to me. He is calmer than normal (or gee, maybe he is just tired). He is not as argumentative as he once was and he seems a little more willing to do chores without so much complaining. I'm telling you, it's the running!
With just a year and a half until he hits high school, I thank God that this kid is learning the value of setting a goal and going after it, no matter how hard it is. I think he is really focused on the outcome and what that will be like for him to do a half marathon. And it's enough to keep him running when he is tired and when it is cold out. And for me, it is the abrupt reminder that he is indeed growing up and that I have much to do with who he is becoming.
And there is nothing more rewarding in my running life than that. It is not the medals, the PRs or the accomplishment of doing something for the first time that fill me with as much joy as seeing the main reason I do what I do coming full circle.
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