In the midst of an uber competitive scavenger hunt, we connected. During our last mother-son game night, he ditched his pals, held my hand, cheered me on, and we came in third. Third in the midst of a couple hundred type-A, do your best-type of moms and their boys. I ran so fast the kid had to yell for me to slow down. I shoved him into the girls bathroom to get our pic of him washing his hands in forbidden territory. I reminded him repeatedly, “We’re on the clock, kid. Let’s roll!” At one point, I passed a mom friend in the hallway as we both were dashing to our next picture for the scavenger hunt, and she and I were screaming at each other as if we were jumping out of plane: “GO! GO! GO! GO!”
My kid was starry eyed. The words, “Wow, I had no idea you were this fast or this intense, mommy!” actually came out of his mouth. HAVE WE MET, KID?!?!? Your mom is a competitive, type-A machine! My boy was in shock and in heaven. That was our first rotation of the night, followed by a terrifying game of mother vs kid dodge ball and then (thankfully so I could rest my hamstrings) a rousing 5-games of Bingo. When he was done aiming for my head or face in dodgeball, he held my hand during Bingo. He hugged me. He asked me scratch his back. He put his sweaty head on my shoulder. He acted like the cuddly, mommy-focused 4-year old I forget that he’s not anymore. It was amazing. And it was beyond bittersweet.
That’s the hard part of childhood for both the kid and the parent. These moments that make is so clear just how much you love each other and just how much the kid in the equation is growing up. I’m finding the decade mark to be very sentimental but also equally amazing. He gets the jokes. He jokes back. Our conversations at bedtime are deeper and he’s noticing the difference between good character and less than good character. I love seeing him connect the dots.
Even so, the twinge of sadness is there. Bittersweet feelings are far more common in parenthood than I anticipated. But, the reality of bittersweetness is that it is fueled by glancing in the past and into the future at the same time. Valid glances, for sure, but I worry that if I’m not careful I’m going to forget to focus my gaze on the present. So, my commitment to myself – and to my people- is to see this present life as we live it. I’ll value the past and look forward to the future, but as we navigate these transition times in childhood I’ll do my best to enjoy the moment. And if focusing on the the moment means I’m letting a ten-year old take iPhone video of me on playground equipment to win a scavenger hunt, so be it.
