My youngest son has been nicknamed The Mouse since the day he was born. Tiny Mouse. From a sweet character in a Cynthia Rylant story. Oh, there have been many variations over the years - Mousie, Mouse-like, Baby Mouse, Mouse Mess........ you get the idea. Friends, neighbors, friends of friends, family, the Queen........ he's Mouse to everyone. We'll bump into an old friend we haven't seen for years and it just cracks me up that after all this time they will still call him Mouse. And I can't tell you how many times we've been in a public place and, without thinking, one of us calls to another, "Hey, where the heck did that Mouse go?". Only to have some poor woman scream "MOUSE!?!? A MOUSE!?!? WHERE!?!?". Heh heh - that one never gets old ;)
Just look at this sweet Mouse :) That sweet face. That fuzzy little head. His Converse high-tops. He was about 6 in this picture. I still think he's 6. The Mouse who's neck I love to nibble. The Mouse who is full of air and goo and laughs like an elf. The Mouse who crawls in bed and snuggles with me every morning. Who constructs Hot Wheels tracks and bakes Creepy Crawlers. That is the Mouse I always envision. Even though the Mouse just turned 13. Can you see where this is going now? Sigh......... I'm having some issues. My heart is playing tug-of-war.
Just look at this sweet Mouse :) That sweet face. That fuzzy little head. His Converse high-tops. He was about 6 in this picture. I still think he's 6. The Mouse who's neck I love to nibble. The Mouse who is full of air and goo and laughs like an elf. The Mouse who crawls in bed and snuggles with me every morning. Who constructs Hot Wheels tracks and bakes Creepy Crawlers. That is the Mouse I always envision. Even though the Mouse just turned 13. Can you see where this is going now? Sigh......... I'm having some issues. My heart is playing tug-of-war.
I do love watching my boys grow up. I love how each one is his own amazing person, and I delight in seeing that develop. DELIGHT. I'm not a "just you wait" teenage-hating mother either. I think every stage has it's ups and downs - mostly ups - and I am a big fan of finding the positive side, even when it's really, really hard to find. I *love* who my boys are. I *love* who they are becoming. But letting go of that last baby..... especially Tiny Mouse..... I have to admit - wow, I did not see this one coming. I would never have guessed it would be this bittersweet. Ouch.
When the Mouse recently graduated from 6th grade, that was big. Collectively, my boys had been at their little neighborhood elementary school for 17 years straight. To have him move on and leave it behind for good..... the finality was much harder than I thought it would be. Yet he could not WAIT to leave it behind for good! And in true Mouse form, he asked for a barbecue for graduation! I don't mean a party with a barbecue. I mean he literally went and picked out his own barbecue grill! That crazy Mouse will put an apron on and grill the best doggone cheeseburgers ever!
When the Mouse recently graduated from 6th grade, that was big. Collectively, my boys had been at their little neighborhood elementary school for 17 years straight. To have him move on and leave it behind for good..... the finality was much harder than I thought it would be. Yet he could not WAIT to leave it behind for good! And in true Mouse form, he asked for a barbecue for graduation! I don't mean a party with a barbecue. I mean he literally went and picked out his own barbecue grill! That crazy Mouse will put an apron on and grill the best doggone cheeseburgers ever!
And while we're on the subject of graduation, get this: He insisted on wearing a kilt for the graduation ceremony. A SCOTTISH KILT. As we say very frequently in our family, "Only the Mouse....... only the Mouse........".
So now the Mouse has braces, and likes girls, and listens to loud music, and frequently acts like he's from another planet all together. He still loves Sponge Bob, but will read any non-fiction account of WWII. He can still decorate a cake like a pro, but he would rather be outside, covered in army gear, pelting all his buddies with air-soft be-be's. He still loves the denim quilt we made together, will kiss me in front of anyone, and yet hauls butt on his dirt bike, and lives to blow up just about anything. And his cell phone ringing nonstop? Yeah, it's usually a female voice on the other end. That Mouse can be playing Halo like a killing machine (shudder), and yet his heart is so tender he will do anything to help an animal. He can slide down an ice luge track at 40mph with nerves of steel, and then have a freaking come-apart if his brother looks at him cross-eyed.
But that's what's so awesome about the Mouse. He is such an individual. And he's such a contrast in talents and hobbies. He'll be selling grilled hot dogs on the street one minute and trimming all our bushes with the hedge trimmer an hour later. An hour after that he'll be watching Drake and Josh and later on he's made two batches of Rice Krispie Treats. Seriously. I can't keep up with that Mouse. I've accepted that. And I know he'll always be the Mouse to us, but I've got to let him be himself too. And I have a feeling my heart is not the only heart playing tug-of-war. Part of him still likes being a child. A lot. Part of him is very excited to grow up and experience whatever is in store for him around the bend. And there is a LOT in store for him. The Mouse will be a man.
"Only the Mouse.......... only the Mouse............".
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