He cares more about changing the world than how the world changes him. He is a snuggler, more puppy than kitty by nature. His laugh will make your heart swell. This kid of mine, newly minted 11-years old today, is pure happiness. When he was a little boy, I used to call him Happiness. He cooed in that melty way only babies can. He giggled easily. He slept soundly and woke peacefully. Still, he does all these things. And still, he makes me melt.
He is growing up, as all children must. He embraces it while I eschew it. He is timid by nature, a tester and observer more than a lemming or risk taker. His constitution is teflon to the nags of peer pressure. I pray this holds through his college years.
He is a thinker and tinkerer. There’s no such thing as junk in his world, for everything can be repurposed. He putzes and plays with equal parts focus and folly. He loathes tidy spaces and made beds. He leaves a pile of books, LEGO bricks, and contraptions on every flat surface he passes. His mind swirls with ideas for inventions, every other sentence starting with, “What if…?”
He reads voraciously. He dissects ideas and loves to build with his hands. He is sensitive, clever, and generous. When he graduated from elementary school just a week ago, several parents sought us out to remark how kind Deal had been to their son, their daughter. He is the kid who stays back to help someone out. He identifies with the underdog. It’s this compassion,coupled with his drive, that’s going to help him change the world.
He’s just half an inch shy of me and has had feet bigger than mine since he was eight. He still holds my hand in public. I imagine things will change in middle school. Gulp. I see expressions and mannerisms from his toddler years. Then I catch a glimpse of his future self. I see hints of the young man he is becoming, though he will always be my baby boy.
My baby is turning 11 in August. It’s bittersweet watching this silly boy who will soon fade away to a conflicted tween. Trying to stay cool. sniff.