Sometimes when I look at Tim I see a six year old. Sometimes it feels like his soul is far beyond his age.
He had Tonsilitis (again!) this week and, as usual, I am enamoured by the conversations that we have and the things that go on in that little head when he has nothing better to do than lay around on the couch. He helped us put up some new light fixtures on Tuesday - purchases welcomed as part of our 3 Home Depot gift cards for Christmas. (Yes, I dropped hints like crazy about how bad I want my home improvements done!) Needless to say, his fascination with lights gave the edge and willingness to help - but it is so nice to have him handing the tools and asking Daddy questions and being right there with us.
Later that day he was talking about when he grows up and gets his owns place and how exciting that will be.
"But," he stated very seriously "I will come visit every Saturday." I could see the thought wheels still turning as he says; "And, if I need help with putting up lights or fans - I 'll ask Dad to come help." Then he glances over at me as if to remember that, oh yeah, I guess she should help with something too; "And I'll call you when I want cookies." Yes. Thank you.
My one friend says that he is an only child, and therefore influenced by more adult things than kids with siblings. The fact that he actually enjoys going shopping - especially places like Princess Auto and Home Depot....and even talks about it after like it was the highlight of his day. Watches Holmes on Homes even when we are out of the room. Doesn't mind long trips in the car. Cleans his own room, does a good job at it and actually enjoys it. Begs for cooked broccoli for supper and pomegranate for dessert.
But with all the good that comes with his blessed maturity - we are starting to see the bad. The one thing about having two very sarcastic parents -- is that you inevitably are blessed with a sarcastic child. Only things is, it just sounds so wrong coming from his little mouth.
And everytime I look at him lately, whether it's to tell him how proud I am of who he is - or scold him for being rude - or to thank him for his help - or just soak up the warmth of his hug.....I hear a little voice; "Not too fast, Tim. Don't grow up too fast. Stay little for as long as you can, enjoy the freedom of your youth. It's all gone too fast and believe me, it's not nearly as much fun being big."
But I don't say it.
Because I remember what it's like being little - he won't listen anyways.
(thanks to my great friend Joel for inspiring this blog with his great email ;)