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Over Christmas break, my dinosaur loving kiddo had a hurt, swollen knee. His legs are really lanky and long and knobby, so when his knee swelled to the size of a softball, I kind of got concerned. Well, actually concerned is probably a really huge understatement. I cried for him, actually. I was so scared for him that something was going to be seriously wrong. I had convinced myself that it was something dire, something terrible. And as mother, it’s totally normal to spaz out over things occasionally (which I do.) Worrying about my kiddo, his health, his well being, his feelings…that’s my job.
But here’s the thing; the great thing….he saw my vulnerability at that time and calmly told me that all was going to be fine. Because that’s how he navigates this world. He takes it all in stride. And of course it all turned out alright. He had bursitis on that knee, and after a lot of rest and ice, it’s pretty much back to normal.
I don’t tell the story to make you feel bad for him, I tell it to give you an idea of what he’s like. Right now. At this age. 9. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a totally normal kid that gets crazy and wild and totally bratty sometimes. He and I bicker all the time, but being complacent wouldn’t be fun for either of us. We’re a lot a like, that kid and I.
He was born with an old soul. He’s got career goals already (his whole life’s ambition is to discover the first ever adolescent/ baby tyrannosaurus), and I can’t wait to see what he does with his life as he gets older. I just don’t really want that to that to happen… the getting older stuff. They don’t get to be little very long, and I wish that wasn’t so.
And his one birthday wish….to ride in the front seat of the car. And now he will learn about the mom arm flying across him. It’s my job.