A complete 180. That is what my son has done. On his journey to adulthood, he is approaching the teen years at a mad pace. Suddenly, I am horribly embarrassing to him. My arm, casually slung about his shoulder is an act that warrants shrugging it off, a glare and walking away. You see, I laugh too loud. I can’t dance. My jokes tank. I have ugly wrinkles and jiggly legs that are obviously so repugnant, he finds it necessary to inform me of my disgraceful human form in some sort of desperate need to distance himself from me.
I am not even worthy of a celebratory fist-bump.
This has happened so quickly. I went from the top of the list to the very bottom within weeks. For the most part, it is funny and we do joke about this a lot. I remind him to be kind. Even his mother has feelings, you know.
He hangs with his Dad. He seeks him out, he watches Dan’s moves. He stands like him. He adopts his mannerisms. He is identifying with the hidden man inside of himself by disconnecting with me and cementing the bond with his Dad. Dan can do no wrong. Nick includes himself in minute activities only to be closer to him, like standing around the truck talking to other guys, hands in pockets. Leaning casually against the truck, taking it all in, these manly ways of conversation.
As he should.
I cannot begrudge my son this important move in life. After all, the delicious baby boy I gave birth to will one day be the man I hope him to be. Solid, kind, caring, courageous. He needs to do this. He needs to move away from Mama Love. He needs to define himself through the masculine world in order to become the man he needs to become.
Dan is worthy of the fist-bump, complete with “blowing it up” too.
As much as it hurts my heart to let this go, I see the joy and light in my husband’s eyes when our son only wants to hang out with him. I forgive my child the little digs at my unfortunate error of being me because I know truly that he doesn’t mean it. It’s just simple biology.
Plus, he has to drive me crazy so I’ll want to let him go when it’s time to leave the nest.
But still, there are times when he chooses to sit close to me on the couch. His hugs are still just as tight, even lingering sometimes for an extra few seconds or so. I am still needed and loved, only now in less blatant ways. I take it all with gratitude. I will always be his Mom….