SentiMENTALity

The Boy has always had an independent streak. Which viciously competes with every mothering instinct I have. At the age of 9, after moving away from the only school he had ever attended, and into a new community where he knew exactly nobody, he would not even permit me to accompany him into the school, let alone the auditorium, where the rest of the student body had gathered to await their classroom assignments.

Today he started his first real job. At a 40 year old community garden, laboring - harvesting cabbages by hand.

That's right. The boy is working in the cabbage patch.

He recently cut off the mop of the most beautifully shiny dark blond hair, and now looks exactly like a 14 year old version of his own 6 year old self, which I am telling you, doesn't help in matters when it comes to my flared up sentimentality.

As he hesitantly walked into the work shed this morning - he looked back at me and gave me a wave - I was reminded of his first day of kindergarten, when he did much the same thing. I was also reminded that time has marched onward, regardless of how ready I was for him to grow up so fast, or how I felt about little by little, letting him go.

It was only out of shear respect for The Boy that I didn't roll down my window and directly address the two much older and should know better employees already there. Like, he's 14, you assholes. Would it kill you to say "Good morning" to him and acknowledge his existence?

I suppose this how all mothers feel, when their little chicks stretch their wings, but recognizing this doesn't make this any easier on me, specifically.

In any case, first days are always awkward, and he's always done well in new situations. This alone makes me feel better...knowing that if anything - he'll adjust and adapt and be just fine.

I'm terribly, fiercely, ridiculously happy that he's ours.