Riece and I would both giggle at our our friend's young son, Isaiah as he would lavishly compliment each of us ladies who had shown up to help. Whenever I carried a box past Isaiah, he'd say, "Ms. Mel, you are so pretty!" By the afternoon, the compliment shifted, ever so slightly, to "Ms. Mel, someday you will be so pretty!" sending Riece and I into fits of laughter. Apparently sweat and I don't get along.
During our brief pizza break, two friends commented about how deep Riece's voice became in just a couple weeks. There was no cracking, wavering, squeaking, or squawking. It was with a sigh that I agreed, having noticed that morning that he was needing to shave again. And he was suddenly eye-level with me. He went from little boy to young man overnight, it seems.
As the crew chatted and joked, Riece leaned comfortably against the counter while casually sipping a can of soda. He chuckled at the jokes and blended in with the adults. Of course, he was probably just ecstatic that he was drinking soda since we don't drink it at home. He was playing it cool and avoiding eye contact with me. I just smiled.
As the crew chatted and joked, Riece leaned comfortably against the counter while casually sipping a can of soda. He chuckled at the jokes and blended in with the adults. Of course, he was probably just ecstatic that he was drinking soda since we don't drink it at home. He was playing it cool and avoiding eye contact with me. I just smiled.
As we were finishing up, one of the fellow movers asked, "Is that your son?" motioning to Riece. I nodded. "He is a fine young man," he said. I thanked him and smiled. The man continued, "No really, he's a great young man." I thanked him again, my heart swelling with pride. Yes, he is a great young man. And he's my young man. I'm blessed!
I told Riece about the compliment on the way home and affirmed him, praising all the efforts he had made and chuckling with him while recapping some of the day's highlights, Isaiah's quips topping the list.
It's so baffling yet amazing to me how quickly our children change. How I can be boggled and nearly overwhelmed one moment and then quickly re-writing the rules of the parenting game to adapt to a more matured and settled version of my son.
It also saddens my heart for parents who miss the ride. Parents who are consumed with life, success, stuff, and activities. Parents who allow the dark and discouraging moments to drown out the sunshine. Parents who squash adventure that their children may bow to their agenda. Parents who's attempts to drive their children towards success actually drive their children crazy. And they wonder why there's a disconnect in their relationships with their children.
I certainly am not a perfect parent and have barely scratched the surface on what it means to be a mother of teens. And I'm also guilty of getting sidetracked, having poor priorities, being overly driven, and allowing myself to be discouraged. I have a long way to go and a lot to learn. But I don't want to miss a moment...
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