Monday, April 18, 2011

They ARE Listening! Wait, They Are, Right?

My nine-year-old son just bought an electric guitar. On eBay.  With his own money.  And he found a great package deal that includes accessories!  He did this all on the iTouch Santa brought him for Christmas.

Some kids play games on theirs.  Some listen to music.  Mine shops.  That's how he found the tennis shoes he is currently wearing.  He stalked those Vans on every shoe website he knew of (how does he know about Zappos?  Or Endless?) and found the ones he wanted and where the best deal was.  Because they were expensive, he even offered to pay for them.  Truth is, I was so excited he'd given up on the ReeZigs (at $90 a pop) I was willing to buy him just about anything else.

All of this makes me feel emotional.  When did he grow up?  He used to buy silly bands, whoopie cushions (seriously, we have about 20, and they seemingly never lose their allure for him), fake dog poo, tattoos and gum.  I'd lecture him on the value of money and the rewards of saving up to buy something that you really want, and he'd remind me that it was his money.  We've tried to let our kids have some independence and some ownership.  If they want a toy in Target, they can save their money and buy it.  With all the activities and uniforms and lessons and orthodontia they're into, we just don't buy them that stuff, except on occasion.  But, wow, I'm just a little floored that those lessons seem to be paying off.  I'm NOT just talking to hear myself talk after all!  Somebody IS listening.  Somebody actually heard and understood me!  Suddenly, I don't feel so alone in the world anymore!

My baby is growing up.  Really, really fast.

Of course, as I'm writing this, I pause to collect my thoughts, look over at my son eating his breakfast, and he's got a whole waffle hanging from his mouth as he shakes it like a dog shakes his toy.  Making faces and trying to cross his eyes.  Just alone -- no one is there for him to entertain but himself.

Pop.  (That's the sound of my little my-son-is-so-amazing-and-mature-for-his-age proudness bubble.)

Sigh.  He left the syrup on the table, his napkin is unused (what are they for again?) and he had to change his shirt because of another syrup catastrophe....





  

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