My boy

Gavin is my boy.

 

 He is so much like me.

He feeds off my moods. He feels my stress before I feel it. Sometimes, when I am feeling a little overwhelmed or lost, I just grab at him and pull him close. He knows I need that. When I'm frustrated, he's frustrated. When i am excited and seeing the positive side of life, he does, too. When I lecture, he shuts down. But when I quiet my mind and listen, he opens up.

 

I have to remind myself, because of how he talks and how he thinks, that he's not quite 10 1/2. He's a child. He's MY child. He's not me. He can't deal with my world and he can't see things through my eyes. He has to see them with his own glasses - has to make his own choices, form his own opinions, look at the world through his own very unique perspective.

 

I love watching him figure out how to read his body and manage his own stress in the ways that work for him. I love seeing him be a silly boy with his friends. I love watching his forehead wrinkle as he plays a video game. I love seeing him walk through a crowd, completely immersed in some fantasy novel. I love it when I engage him in conversation and he analyzes my sense of humor and tries to imitate it. I see him trying so hard to be that big brother - role model that he feels he should be to his siblings.

 

He hates it when I cry. He would do anything to fix a fight with me. He would undo anything to make me not mad at him anymore.

 

He's the child who made me a mother.

 

And sometimes, like tonight, he stands behind me and puts both hands on my shoulders and whispers, "it's going to be okay mom"... and I thank God he's mine. Because I know, that no matter what happens between him and i  - good, bad or ugly - he's got my back.

 

I would move heaven and earth for that child.

And he knows it.

 

he's my boy.