I was sitting here being pleasantly bloggerless, and then my baby called to say I must pick him up from soccer practice….the joys of motherhood…
But that’s just the thing. He’s not a baby anymore. He just turned 12 the other day. I remember him in nappies and baby-gro’s. That skinny, tiny little thing. All limbs and no meat. Not anymore.
He’s becoming a young man. Just recently he reminded me puberty had hit full-force. The two of us were reading, and I was admiring this handsome young fellow (i.e. my good genes!! lol)
Me: You’ve got no facial hair
Him: But I have hair here and there *pointed to armpits & south; shock horror*
Ja neh? Ek wil mos.
And then recently we had milestone # 125. The first batch of acne products
Him: Ma, I need Oxy
Me: What for?
Him: DUH. To wax…..ai Ma, you know mos!
Me: Do you even have acne? *not the last time I looked*
Him: Ma, don’t be difficult! Just buy it, ok?
So I bought the Oxy and when I got home, asked to see the pimples. There were three on his forehead.
Me: You need Oxy for THREE pimples?
Him: Ai, Ma, stop being so difficult! Have you heard of prevention…?
I think he couldn’t wait to use Oxy. It’s like a status thing. Wait until the acne really hits…
I was looking forward to them growing up. But it’s happening too fast. I can’t keep up. And I realise what it means too. I’m getting old….And soon there will be a girlfriend, then a wife, then kids. Then Ma will not be the most important woman in their lives.
That’s part and parcel of growing up, right? ‘Tis true
But I never thought I would be filled with such anxiety at the mere thought. They are my babies, you know. Whether 12 or 25. I know I will have to unleash them on the world, they too have to make a life, find love & fortune… learn about life on their own.
I can’t hold their hands forever. But I want to hold on to them for as long as possible.