And just like that...

There are moments as a parent that on the surface read as small as insignificant but in reality are bigger then I had ever imagined. These are not the traditional “milestones” of first tooth, first word or first day of school. I expected those. I was prepared for them. I waited for them and celebrated their occurrence with pomp and circumstance.

It’s the small subtle indicators that signal independence and growing up. Those are the curveballs that grab my attention by painfully smacking me upside the head.

My son started middle school 3 day ago. He’s spent a whole 28 hours of class time as a middle schooler. My labor lasted longer. What could possibly have transpired in those 28 hours that was so different from his 5th grade experiences? Oh the expectations are greater. He’s learning how to “take notes” and play different band instruments. He will now receive letter grades instead of elementary school number assessments. Okay. I knew that was coming. I am fine with all that.

We were heaped on the bed in my bedroom chatting about the day, discussing his new teachers and all the new stuff that’s been occurring. And then he says he’s tired and it’s time for bed and then it happens….

“I can tuck myself in.”

Ugh.

Rip my heart out and stomp on it.

And just like that his need from mom or dad to straighten covers and flip off the light has ended.

I am blindsided.

I didn’t see that coming.

I have a goose egg on my head from the curveball.

Did I actually think he would want us to tuck him in forever? Frankly I don’t know how to answer that.

In the blink of an eye we went from the center of his universe to still part of the universe but now he is defining his own parameters. I am not ready for it. Not by a long shot.