Knocking down my kids

My oldest is celebrating his 17th birthday today. While I marvel at the young man he has become, I also miss the baby he used to be. He was one of those early walkers. You know, teetering around on two tiny feet way before a normal kid should. At first I was a proud dad, bragging and showing my friends how “special” my little man was. Then I realized I had to keep up with him. He was beyond mobile. There was nothing he couldn’t get into or climb or find. When the next three kids came along and showed signs of walking, I knocked them down. Walking was overrated. Mobility required more work. And just like he took his first steps at a young age, I wonder how far and fast he will go as a young man. I desperately want to knock him down. I want to keep him close to me. But too much time has passed. He’s itching to go out into the world and there’s not much time left before he will be gone. So happy birthday little (big) man, and forgive your parents if they hug you a little tighter today.

2 thoughts on “Knocking down my kids

  1. You know what sucks (and this has been sitting on my own blog post back burner for a while)? The fact that doing a good job as a parent, i.e. you kids actually being functional human beings who can navigate society, means that they leave you–without fanfare, without tears, without sadness. It means you’ve done your job well, but I imagine it hurts your heart like a bastard.

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