a mother's growing pains

I’m not sure that I want my boys to grow up.  Is that wrong?

Sure, I look forward to seeing the men they will eventually become.  I have all kinds of questions about their futures … Where will they go to college?  What will they study?  What career path will they choose?  Who will they marry?  Etc., etc.  I know they will be good men, husbands, fathers … because they are good boys, sons, friends.

But, it’s just that I really like who they are now.  They’re at such great ages.  Not too big, not too small.  And, more importantly, they’re still “mine.”  I thoroughly enjoy being with them, listening to their thoughts, jokes, ideas, problems, concerns.

I love all the activity around our house … all the playing, the action.  I don’t always love the wrestling and rough-housing, but I’m sure in time I’ll wish our home was still filled with all that boyish energy.  I love that I (almost) always know exactly where they are, who they’re with, and what they’re doing.  I love that they can go from playing ping pong, to playing the Wii, to playing football together … all in the space of an hour.  And, I especially love that when I sneak into their rooms every night after they’re asleep and lean down to kiss them, I can still smell everything that they were up to that day.  That special scent of a little bit of sweat mixed with a little bit of outdoors … the smell that tells me they played hard that day … just like boys should.  The scent that belongs to boys, and only boys.

Things are good right now.  Yes, our lives are busy and there’s hardly an evening without a practice or a game or a lesson or a meeting of some sort.  But I know over the next few years our lives will get even busier.  Jobs, more friends, dates, more sports … all of these things are a normal part of life, but they are things that will take these great boys away from me.  And I’ll really miss them.

A friend of ours recently received his mission call to a very far away, somewhat dangerous, and quite remote place.  When I heard about his call, I thought to myself, “Boy, I’m so glad my sons aren’t old enough to go on missions yet.  I’d sure be worried if I were his Mom.”  But, the truth is, time passes too quickly, and before I know it, it will be my sons receiving mission calls.  Which I know will be exciting and wonderful and without question the right thing to do, but, still.  I’m their Mom.  And I’m already afraid for them to leave.

After their missions, they’ll be all grown up.  They will be men.  And they’ll have places to go and things to do and people to see.  They’ll go to school and have jobs and girlfriends and eventually wives, and then they’ll have kids of their own.  And, deep down, I know this will all be fantastic and I’ll still love my boys as much as I do now, and I’ll love their wives and their darling kids, too.  But … I’ll miss being able to kiss them every night when they’re sleeping and smell that special sweaty/outdoorsy scent that belongs to boys and only boys.  It seems like it would be so much easier if things could just stay how they are right now.

Although, I must admit that my boys seem to be getting more and more fun to be with the older they get.  I enjoy them more now than I did a few years ago.  I like the conversations we have, the insight they give me, and the outlooks they provide.  So I guess there’s hope.  If this continues, then everything will be just fine and I’ll find new things to cherish about them with each passing year.  But I still really like the way things are now.