This boy is so much like me. He's a first-born and definitely lives up to first-born stereotypes. He's got a "Type-A" personality. He's a people pleaser (more specifically, he's an authority pleaser). He doesn't like to disappoint his daddy or me. Loves to read. Is Bossy. Isn't phased by "fitting in" with his peers. Is comfortable with who he is. Likes school. Loves his teacher. Willing to lead, but more comfortable in the background. And I can just go on and on.
I love that he's 7 years old and still comes and crawls in my lap. It tickles me pink that he still holds my hand when we are walking around a store. When he cries, he comes to Mommy for comfort and understanding. It thrills me that he runs up to me everyday after school and gives me a great big hug. He still gives me kisses in front of his friends.
But I can't help but think....how much longer of this do I have? By no means, do I expect (or even want) him to be crawling into my lap when he's 30 years old. I mean, afterall, I'm not Marie Barone (for those "Everybody Loves Raymond" fans). But it is so great that he feels comfortable enough to do those things still. I love those moments and am cherishing each and every one of them....for they may not last for very much longer. *sniff, sniff*
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