I'll see ya when we get there

Eight years ago I was in a Hungarian hospital holding my brand new baby boy. My first-born. I looked at him and could see so far into what I thought would be our future.

But I couldn't see past about seven. I loved small children. I adored them. But an eight year old boy? Hmmm...that seemed awkward. pre-pre-pubescent, changes, body...stuff...I would have kept him little.

I would have missed so much.

But isn't that life? If we could see who we (or our children) will be in the future, would we be able to survive the long necessary road that leads there? Would we drive ourselves mad with curiosity like I sometimes do when I read the ending page of a novel...wondering HOW and constantly wanting to skip ahead?

I never thought I would be who I am today. Many beliefs have changed, many absolutes in parenting have dissolved; I'm a different parent than I ever could have imagined. Indeed, I'm a different person than I could have imagined. And you know what? I'm okay with that.

Tonight we cross the realm from 7 to 8. For just a while he sat on my lap. I played with his hair. Then I helped him up into bed and allowed him the privilege of "Call of the Wild" before turning out the light.

Blankets were tucked, a hug and a kiss, puppy was nuzzled into his arms...and he sat up for just one more kiss.

"I love you mom"

I love you too baby boy...more than you'll ever know.

I adore 8 year old Jake. Conversations deepen, I can see empathy stirring in him, wheels of reason are beginning to turn and all the while my sweet Jake remains.

I don't know who he will be in five years. I don't know who I'll be in five years for that matter. And I don't need to know...cause I'll see ya when we get there.

Happy birthday Jakey boy.