Growing Up

I was reading a blog post about a summer reading list for tweens, mainly because I wanted to see what was on the list. But then I noticed that "tween" is a child between 9-12. Um....Aiden will be 9 in October. Oh my word, I nearly have a tween. I think I almost threw up when that occurred to me.

I don't know why that realization shocked me. Over the past few weeks, he's been asking for less "kid" stuff. He got upset at the messy state of his room, then proceeded to organize his desk and ended up filling two garbage bags full of things he didn't need anymore. How adult of him. Once that happened, he looked around at his walls and requested that we re-decorate to make his room look less kid-like. What he wants isn't exactly "grown up" decor, but definitely more on the tween/teen side of things.

We were in the library on Friday and I asked him if he wanted to look for some new chapter books. He said, "Yes, but I want to make sure they're not for little kids. I want older, deeper, challenging books." As he browsed, he came across The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells and proclaimed, "This is what I'm talking about!" So that's what he's reading.

I'm not quite sure where along the way my chubby-faced first born turned into a less chubby, taller, intellectual non-baby. He hates when I bring it up but I try to explain that in a way I'm kind of sad, but I'm also very proud of him, and watching him grow is one of the greatest joys I've ever experienced.

I expect more "no little kid stuff" comments over the summer, and I can deal with that. I might even be able to keep quiet as I feel the mixture of pride rising up inside me and a part of me dying a little. Raising a person is a strange, emotional experience.