Tuesday, January 13, 2015

When Did Those Pants Get So Short?

I glanced over at my son in the kitchen this morning.
While his back was turned, hair standing on end from a night's deep sleep, I happened to look down at his "pajamas."  Those sweatpants Papa Buck got him a few Christmases ago.  The pitch black ones with the American Eagle side logo that used to drag on the floor at least three inches. The ones he wore anyway because they were "soooo soft."  
I looked down and noticed for the first time they were four inches above his ankles.  
When did those pants get so short?
Beautiful selfie on the airplane headed to Alabama
on Christmas Morning

Where is the time going?

Yesterday I drove him to school, a route that's short enough to walk, but one which we decided I will drive.  For him because it's "too exhausting" to walk at the beginning of his day.  For me because I secretly treasure those seven minutes in the car with him.  We were discussing his comment, 
"I really don't like school," (shocker!)...
How the concept of "school" dated back to the times of Jesus...
Socrates...
Aristotle...
And how the concept was originally such an amazing one.
That it was a concept of learning moral and social values, arts and philosophy.
That it was a notion of free exchanges of ideas.
That it has changed in such dramatic fashion due to bureaucracies and politics, common core standards and "no child left behind."
That it changed to something stricter and less free, a bit more militant.
But that the changes occurred through the concerns of citizens who had true moral motivation....
That each child be able to learn equally.

It may seem I'm off on a tangent here.
That I'm just filling you in on a random convo. (Truly, I'm not looking for a debate!)
But in actuality, I'm illustrating that we were talking about profound topics.
Yes, I feel fairly certain I was making a good argument and finding the proper vocabulary to support my ideas.
Wasn't I?

When the guy on my right blatantly ignored my perpetual blinker as I tried to change lanes, I muttered, "You're neat," and Braden started laughing.
"I love that 'you're neat' is the worst you can think to say to that guy," he said.
"Oh, I can think of alot worse but don't see the point," I giggled. "It's really not..."
I paused.
"Appropriate?" he interjected.  "Productive? Useful?"
I looked at him as we sat at the red light and said, "You know, if you'd let me finish thinking half the time, I'd be able to find the word.  Now I can't remember the point I was trying to make."
"Well, just give me the idea, and I'll come up with the word."
"I could have come up with it myself if you'd ever let me finish my sentence these days!!!" I fired back.

When, oh when, did this "child" begin to think he could articulate more clearly than I what I want to say?!?
(And when did those pants get so short?!?)

I was thinking about that exchange this morning as I carried his tennis racket and dirty clothes from the living room (don't you have a tennis racket and dirty clothes in YOUR living room?  Is that not normal?) to their proper locations.  In inhaled deeply of his clothes, knowing they would be ripe, but aware that there are only a few more years left of being able to serve him in this way.
He's correcting my words.
He's coming up with the thoughts.
He's supporting his own ideas.
And his pants are too short.

He's becoming a man.

It seems like only yesterday I was watching my daughter go from girl-to-womanhood in the span of a few short years.  
A span of time that was both irritating and awe-inspiring.  
A span of time that was as profound as it was argumentative.  
A span of time that went too quickly and that I long for most days.




And it strikes me deeply once again, on these days of realization rather than annoyance, how blessed I am to mother these children...
...this woman and this young man who have grown and changed and matured right before these astonished eyes.
How honored and impressed I should be that they are providing the words when I cannot.
How moved I am that I have been tasked with this most amazing job.

I pray that each of you know and believe the difference you make in the lives of the children around you...
Whether as parents or aunts and uncles or teachers or mentors...
That we have been entrusted with the most inspiring, important job in the world.
That we are growing tomorrow's women and men of God.




{Loving my boy and girl so intensely today.
And thanking Him, in his trust and love, 
for these, my greatest blessings.
Thanks for reading.}









2 comments:

  1. "You're neat!" Ha! That's a great one.

    And, yes, I am always asking "When did those pants get so short?"

    Thanks for the encouragement today, Cynthia.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Heather, for visiting! You're sweet to comment. Yes, pants are short and time is flying and blessings abound...especially in this sacredly mundane life we live. So grateful for the opportunity to share thoughts here. Come back anytime! Cynthia

      Delete