Growing Pains

I see him struggle with his thoughts and feelings and wish I could do more. He is reserved. Then he is frenetic (nature of the hyperactivity; nature of introspection). He is teased sometimes. Sometimes he says inappropriate things at inappropriate times (nature of not knowing social pragmatics; nature of being a pre-teen). Sometimes he acts so mature and helpful that I forget he is only eleven. Sometimes he acts like he is six. He is struggling, but he is fine. He is fine, but he is hurt, but he is happy, but he is sad. He is a mixture of my husband and I. He is my husband's clone; he has my eyes and nose. I don't understand him, but yet I do. I am as mixed up about him as he is about life. And it is only beginning...

She is demanding. "Go here" "Sit here" "I want that" "Milk!" "Juice!" "Shoes!" Sometimes please and thank you are used. Most times she has to be reminded. She got her first blisters on her heels yesterday. Shoes that do not quite fit yet, but soon will. Outfits from last summer--one is definitely too small; the other, the shorts fall off of her. Her hair is becoming a style of sorts. Sometimes it is up, other times (because I don't know how to fix up little girl's hair) it is down. She is becoming mischevious and knowing. She is jumping off the bottom stairs, but trips and sometimes waddles again on smooth ground. One of her baby dolls is smeared with toothpaste, the many applications and attempts shown on this poor doll's eyes and mouth. Sometimes I find myself thinking she is older than she is--her eyes and her thoughts open to me. Sometimes I remember that she doesn't know what she knows, and neither do I. She sings ABCs and knows the color blue. And she has discovered bugs. She gets frustrated and throws tantrums and I wonder when it will end--and then I bemoan that fact that this is only a phase, and soon enough she will be out of it and onto new stages...she is on the edge of a whole world opening up to her.