Hey, son of mine, we've hit a bump in the road. Naively, I thought we'd detour around this rock when, upon witnessing the road rage of your older brother, you promised, "Mom, I will never talk that way or roll my eyes at you.".
Ah, the innocence of a ten-year-old.
Those days of spontaneous hugs and shared laughter are (temporarily) gone. We may be sharing the road together, but in your opinion I am a better chauffeur than traveling pal. I wish this didn't hurt, but it does...because I miss you! From the time I felt you move within me, I have loved you. While changing the sleepers on your 8 pound body, I would cradle your feet and pray for the places where they would tread. The peace that surrounded you was tangible. Your energy was smooth, warm, delicious. I loved waking in the night to rock you; I think you put me back to sleep, more than the other way around. As you grew, talents began to shine: athletic ability, creative writing, mercy and empathy. A better friend could not be found.
I feel like I've lost my friend. Yet, I know there will be a bend in the journey that will bring us back to a loving relationship. In time, you will seize to think that I say only stupid things. You won't cringe when I sing along with the radio. A touch on the shoulder won't cause you to flinch. From experience with your older brother, I also know that you will have changed in many important, necessary ways. And that is a good thing. To live is to grow. I'll be changing, too.
As a parent, part of my job description entails letting you go. The tricky part in navigating that task is to balance my need for your respect with your need for independence. It's a bummer of a road bump. But I think, if we just slow down and let the driver do the driving, we'll make some progress.
There's an abundance of hugs, waiting for you, down the road.