The Cat's Outta the Bag

The other morning, my oldest woke up with his loose tooth relocated to the other side of his mouth.  (I know.  Yuck.)

Needless to say, the tooth fairy was due for a visit.

Only, she didn't have any dollar bills laying around... and sorta forgot.

This morning at 6am, she remembered...

She dug through the change jar in search for enough to add up to dollar.

With perfect hearing, my oldest came out of his room, wondering what "all that clanking noise" was.

With four quarters hidden in hand, any noise of the clanking sort was denied in a round-about way so as to not be totally outright dishonest.

My son made mention that the tooth fairy failed to show, again.  Then he asked if I was sure it wasn't us, because his friends all say it's their parents.

With a sigh of defeat, I reluctantly opened my hand to show him the loot.

"It IS you!".... pause.... "That's disappointing."

Yes, yes it is.

Then comes the inevitable next question, "So is the Easter Bunny you, too?"

"Really, Andur? A bunny that hides eggs around your house??"

"Oh, yeah.  I guess that's true."  (Please don't ask the next question... walk away, Jami! Walk away!!)

"What about Santa Claus?"

(me) "He's real."

"My friend said she looked it up in the encyclopedia and read that he's just a myth."

"Well, go look it up."

So he did.

"Hey, there's a town called Santa Claus!"

(Me) "Really, where?"

"On the same page as the other one."  (duh.)

(Him) "It says he died somewhere in the 300's A.D.  That's kinda creepy - some dead dude coming in our house in the middle of the night."

( ... )

So, I told him. 

I said he IS real, he's just not alive.  He's been immortalized by parents and children for generations. 

I linked it to the first gift of Christmas - how our loving Heavenly Father gave us His only Begotten Son; how the humble and meek were guided to Him by a star, the reason we have a star atop our tree. 

I told him, now he gets the wonderful opportunity to embrace the true meaning of the season; that he gets to help us keep the magic alive for the younger ones not privy to this conversation.  (Well, Owen was, but he didn't seem to care.) 

It was bittersweet, this conversation.  I remember all too well the heartbreak upon finding out why my dad's handwriting was suspiciously similar to every fantastical character of my youth.  My heart ached for his; for him having to take yet another step in this growing up process. 

Yet, to see the light in his face when he finally (*finally*) "got" what Christmas really is all about...

"Oh, I get it!" 

...not much I can add to the greatness of that. 

Crossroads

10.

Double digits.

Going on 11.

5th grade, even.

*sigh*

I remember reading or being told, once, that children become who they're going to be by the time they're five.

On the way to a meeting with my son, tonight, I realized how untrue that is.

I can't believe the changes occurring in my son and his life. 

He wants to play the viola in band at school.  He passed the test to play one with flying colors.

He told me next year he wants to play football and be a lineman.

He told me about the girl he had a crush on last year.

He's going to be learning about, you know, "things" in school, this year, so we had the opportunity to have "the talk" before school started in hopes of squelching any notions of sex being OK as long as you're using protection or whatever such nonsense they teach kids nowadays.

He's joining clubs at school that promote responsibility and maturity.

He's liking GIRLS, for crying out loud!

He's entering a time in his life that will greatly define who he'll be when he grows up. 

Ha, it's not when he grows up, anymore, rather as he grows up.

As a parent, this is both exciting and scary; both bitter and sweet.

I can only hope that I helped him lay a firm enough foundation so when he's faced with life-altering decisions, he'll know which road to take and it'll be one he'll always be proud of.

How on earth did I get here?

Heaven help me...