He's moving towards the middle.
That place where childhood is slowly fading and teenagehood is just on the horizon. A place where figuring out who means a lot of do-overs and mess-ups. A place where mom isn't as cool as she used to be... but he still needs her (and he'll admit it... for now) to share his day with, to validate feelings and to help him understand these new experiences.
The middle.
Wanting to look older, to be older... but not able to figure out what that means exactly.
Sometimes he looks at me in a certain way and I see the man he's slowly becoming and other times... I see that tiny baby I nursed to sleep night after night.
He's testing boundaries, talking through his feelings (yes, his future wife will thank me), and enjoying the little bit of extra freedom he's given. He's realizing his own weaknesses and I reinforce his strengths.
He is absolutely beautiful.
The middle.
The awkward years. The not so hormonal but enough to make a momma worry and pray. I've never been around boys growing up (not like this anyway), so this is new to me.
The middle.
The place where we'll be growing together!
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