Thankful - and Contemplative - Maestro is 15

2013 - with a Flat Stanley

Last week my oldest boy - the one who is now taller than I am at 6'1", who wears his Pop's clothing size, chooses his own music, many of his movies, friends and fashion - turned 15. 

29 Gifts: Day 8 - Happy Birthday Oldest!

I'll recap my gifts of these past few days. Right now, something important has come up in the middle of my journey. Not a surprise, it happens every year, but important is important, and this is Important.

Ladies and Gentlemen: I give you my Oldest - Maestro - as an emerging TEEN. This child is my first gift to the world as a "Mom." He is special. Don't break him. He is wonderful. Help him stay that way. He is unique. And I am in awe of him as he grows into a young man who is now big enough to almost fill Pop's shoes (he is in a bigger shoe size than dear Mom now, poor soul!)

2012 - playing around in the garage in VA. Love that we can still laugh this way.

When he was born, we had to find "preemie" clothes for him to wear for a week or two, he was "on time" but just so tiny. Now, he can wear some of his pop's old pants (glad I saved them!) and shirts. He can help keep the house going when I am not at hand. And yet... he can laugh with his friends and play tag with his brothers and sister, and handle her sometimes-screaming fits with aplomb.

The Story of a "Baby" Boy - Happy Birthday Oldest!

This post is about our oldest. Nana, Grandma Jo, Beth - feel free to link me to some early pictures if you have any digitized, otherwise they'll have to come later.

Maestro turned 12 this past Friday - every day we look at him and see the signs of a man emerging. We see him trying to take on responsibility for himself, taking charge of his own schedule. Makes me a little sad in a way. Sad in the same way that I felt when he was five or six and crossed the street by himself for the first time. He was going to play with his friends, and didn't even look back. My "baby" was leaving me behind, letting me go. Wow. What a moment.

What a stark, difficult, happy moment.

My Boy.

All the years that he's been in the back seat of the car, his face rising steadily higher in the rearview mirror as he's grown taller and taller, my mind was filling in the future years. I could - can - so easily picture the way he'll look as an older teen, as an adult, leaving Mom behind for a lot longer than an hour across the street.