



I have always been a big proponent of growing up, because I love each stage and I love to see the personalities of my boys develop. I find it fascinating - and one of the most wonderful perks of parenthood. So it has pulled the rug out from under me a little to feel such loss. I guess it's because he's the last one.
But then I remind myself that I still see frequent glimmers of Mouse-like behavior, and I probably always will if I will stop wallowing long enough to notice. He is the first one to help if he is needed. He is the first one to freely offer affection. He is tender-hearted toward animals, and will go out of his way to help one. He has a love of country that runs so deep it chokes him up. The Mouse is a good boy, and he will be a good man. And he will always be my Mouse.
So today he starts 8th grade. There he is with Luna, waiting for the carpool to pick him up. I hope and pray he has a wonderful school year this year. I know from experience that there will be many ups and downs. I know that 14 year old boys are pretty much aliens from another planet. But I also know that tomorrow is always another day, and that most things work out, and that God is good. And that even though I knock the Mouse upside the head for belching at the dinner table he knows I love him with all my heart and soul.
