Today Edgar is nine! One year away from 10 and way too many more years than we have actually felt go by. Por más que me pongo a pensar, the truth is it escapes me where all the time actually went. He’s no longer just a kid, one who’s simply satisfied with simple explanations. Now he asks questions and insists with them, he likes to wonder about the world and how it works, and doesn’t have a problem sharing lo que piensa all of the time… to anyone. He protests when he doesn’t like something. A few times we’ve actually had to call his attention on it, and remind him who’s in charge here. We are. I think.
He’s excited. We’re scared. Scared that we’re not ready for his teens. Scared that we’ve not done the absolute best job we possibly could have. Scared that one day we’ll wake up and he’ll be on his way out the door. Starting his own life, all grown up, and never to be our “baby” anymore. Pretty soon he’ll want to drive. Pretty soon he’ll want to plan his own Saturday night. Pretty soon he’ll be yelling and screaming about “how it’s not fair.” Pretty soon he’ll be falling in love… and then having his heart broken. Pretty soon!
I’m definitely not ready, but what I do know is last night when he came over to us like he does every night to kiss us goodnight and tell us how much he loves us in that sweet little voice I made a mental picture of that instant in time, froze it in my mind, and tucked it away at the bottom of my heart.
This is exactly how I want to remember this moment.
¡Feliz cumpleaños mi papito! I love you.