Lucky Number Seven

September 24, 2002, seven years ago, I became a Mom. My sweet Collin came into this world a little peanut of a guy. 6 pounds 8 ounces. It was a long and medically complicated labor that ended in a c-section from which he kind of sauntered out. Laid there under the heat lamps, quiet, observant, hands behind his head, totally relaxed. We quickly learned it wasn't a predictor of his temperament, but it was an indication of his wisdom.

Dubbed the "Professor" for his serious and studious nature Collin has always behaved more like an adult than a child. Except when he's throwing tantrums which he does regularly. Even at 7. And honestly I believe the tantrums come from his frustration at having to exist in the world as a child. His brain works quickly and he does not suffer fools gladly, especially his Mother. And if only we would all just let him do what he needs to do when he needs to do it there wouldn't be any problems at all.

I don't mean that disrespectfully. The kid is a genius and far surpasses my intellectual capabilities and capacity for learning. He's always thinking, has a fast processor, and is usually several steps ahead of me. Even when he's wrong about something there's a clear logic flow to how he ended up at his destination.

But he's not ALL seriousness. He's developed this bond with animals this year. He dotes on our cats Linus and Lucy and has a relationship with them that is parental and nurturing. He's taken it upon himself to be their caregiver. He tends to their physical as well as emotional needs. It's clear he takes animals very seriously (oh...there's that word again...) and I have to admit his tenderness with them fills me with so much pride.

Collin also has a sincere passion for soccer. He commits 100% to the whole game with total focus. He runs at top speed, always follows and charges the ball, plays his position even when it's defense. And, well, coaches the other players as he does so. There's always sort of a running commentary coming from him, a coaches narrative about strategy and who should be where and doing what.

But what is pressing on my heart the most on this seventh anniversary of the day my life changed forever is how much he's changed in just one year. The physical difference is symbolic. He's becoming a KID as opposed to a child. And I'm finding myself needing to make adjustments in how I parent him. Give him more freedom, more independence. More credit for all he knows. Trust myself that I've taught him enough for now, trust him to do the right thing. Let him make some mistakes, figure some things out on his own. And it's scary. This shift, ever so subtle, away from needing me so much.


We struggle often. We don't understand each other. We battle over small things. I frustrate him, he aggravates me. So much of our household dynamic is dominated by his anger and attitude. And yet, this kid, is one of the sweetest you'll ever meet. He's got a heart of gold. He's popular at school, the teachers love him, he listens attentively and behaves well. He is a good kid. As much as we sometimes think he's not, as much as he sometimes feels he's not, he actually is. And he has a smile that simply melts this Mother's heart.


Ours is a complicated relationship. We're both complicated people with our own big ideas about what it means to exist in the world. And often there's a clash of wills. But what is absolutely true is that seven years ago my life changed for the better. For I am a better person for parenting Collin. He is teaching me things about myself, about life, about love that I would not have learned without him. And every night I go into his room while he's sleeping, lay my hand on that growing body, and fall in love all over again. And always strive to do better tomorrow.

I love you my Doodle.

Love,
Momgom