October 23, 2012

on boys and girls who just keep getting bigger

I saw a picture of a new baby the other day. A blogger that I read recently adopted a wee little girl and I sat, staring at my screen, looking at the photos of that tiny little thing and though, "Crap, that was a long time ago for us!"

Because, folks, my kids just keep growing. They won't stop! It's whizzing by! Flying!

This week, on Friday, our boy heads off to his first boy/girl dance. You may remember the drama surrounding the whole "asking a girl to the dance" issue. We got over that stress, found out that he only had to ask a girl to dance, at the dance and I though whew, crisis averted. Still time before I have to deal with that particular hair greying moment.

But no, it seems that Briton is something of a Romeo, having already asked a girl if she will dance with him once they get there, AND having volunteered for the dance set-up committee with her. The boys in his class are now coming to him for advice on talking to girls and another mother asked if we are providing a corsage, because her son wants to know if he needs to get one too, if he can work up the courage to ask the girl he wants to dance with.

Uh, no. And...
Holy Crap.

I'm tempted to let it slip that two nights ago I caught him practicing the Moon Walk in his room at WAY past my bedtime and that this morning, we had to battle with him to get him to get his pants on. But that would probably be a little too embarrassing, right? I did tell him, at five minutes till bus time with no evidence at hand that he planned on getting dressed ever, that I had absolutly no problem with sending him to school in only his underpants.

He got his clothes on in time you'll be happy to know.

It's like I have a teenager. Or at least a tweenager. Oh that's right. I do. Sigh.

He's going on over night field trips. She's in love with High School Musical (And, OK, I know I'm late to that particular train but man is that movie cheesy. Like Cheese Whiz cheesy. Were Disney movies always like that?) He wants more "rock music" on his ipod and less of that Celtic/folksy "stuff" I listen to.  She's confiding that Tony wants to be her boyfriend but it won't work because "I would never have a boyfriend named Tony!" (Where did she get that? And also, from henceforth until she is 30, all boys shall be called Tony).

I am not ready! I AM NOT READY.

Cant we just, I don't know, put them in a freezer or make time stand still or something?