Wednesday, April 13, 2011

I called him my "man-child"...

... and he said he'd prefer to be called my "adult-child". But when I look at him I don't think "adult". I think "man". I see the tell tale signs of him not shaving for several days. I see the broadened shoulders. The set of his jaw.

When he was young and small, I called him "son". "Hey, son, come here!" And the like. 'Cause he's my child. But, I never called him "child". But, now I gaze his way and see my "man-child". I suppose I'll have to just keep that in my head and heart... because it just wouldn't sound right to say, "Hey, man-child, come sit next to me!" I'll continue calling him "Son". Yep, that'll do.

I battled traffic for nearly 100 miles yesterday. There were just a few times I got out of 2nd and 3rd gear. But, I got there. I couldn't make it on the very day he turned 18. But he had the day out of school to participate in tennis finals at his local sports club. More importantly, he wanted me there. And when your "man-child", oops, I mean "son", says it would mean a lot if you were there, well... you get out and battle traffic.

Here are a few of this mom's faves:


I see through those last two photos and he is 10 again... next to the court... calling out "Hey, mom! Watch this!", while he delightfully demonstrations killer forehands, backhands and serves. (And to save what remains of his pride... I wont post those pictures of him!)

I love my man-child. Um... Son... I truly do. No matter what. Forever. 'Cause I'm his mom. That's what moms do.

PS Here's what Jayden thought of tennis:
Yep... he gave it his half smile.

Here's what Uncle Stephen does with Jayden:

May the road rise up to meet you.

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