Our oldest child turned seven today.
Looking back I remember the days passing slowly, and yet suddenly it seems six years have passed and now here he is- riding a bike, reading, helping his younger siblings with breakfast and rolling his eyes at his parents.
He came into the world much the same way- a week overdue, a lingering inducement, hurried conversations in the hospital hallway and then a c-section that brought him into our lives so quickly I felt as though the stork had dropped him off.
Slowly, then suddenly, I was his mom.
He was not a good baby, we were not good parents. Or maybe he was just a normal baby and we were just new parents. Slowly, then suddenly, we learned to be better.
I remember the first time he smiled at me, my husband teaching him to hit a baseball, the day he took off on his bike without training wheels. The downfall of being the firstborn is that your parents have no idea what they are doing, the privilege of it is that all of your milestones stand out clearly in a way that your younger siblings’ never will.
For all he has learned in the past seven years, he has taught me so much more.
About taking risks and being kind and living with integrity and setting priorities and being the type of person that I hope my children will emulate. And so slowly, and I hope someday suddenly, he will look up to me as much as I look up to him.
As always, thanks for stopping by Beer and Junk!