I can’t figure out how I feel about my kids growing up. Our 14-year old Camille is about to become our 15-year old, and she’s already talking about learning to drive. She’s talking about more than I am! Where’s the little pumpkin who used to call her forehead her “headbrow?”
Our son Meyer is 11. We adopted him from Haiti 5 years ago when he was six. At the time he spoke no English, had never ridden a bike or even used scissors. Now he is known as “The Flash” on his flag football team.
Camille went to a real night time teenager party with both boys and girls. (Yikes!) Meyer is already probably more handy around the house than I am. Camille recommends classic novels to us! She’s got me reading Dickens’ "Nicholas Nickelby." I can’t bring the cute, little kid versions of them back. I can’t stop time.
Actually I’m not sure I want to. I have always said I’ve enjoyed each stage of being their dad more than the last. But I’m afraid the time is going by too fast. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. If I can’t slow time down, I want to make the most of the time ahead. I want to cultivate the kind of relationship that remains close into adulthood. I want to be able to go from parent to friend and confidant as Camille and Meyer move into adulthood. If you’re in our stage of life, you can probably relate. If you’ve gone through this transition successfully, I admire you. Maybe we should talk! Share your advice in the comments.