My eldest child turns eleven today. As I write this sentence, he was entering the world. Leigh was there when he joined us. Around 8 am she inquired how much longer it would take; she had to get to work. Luckily, Jax made his way here at 8:50 am, she was only slightly late that day.
As a baby he was so pleasant. He had round chubby cheeks, was happy, content, and slept well. As a young, unprepared mother I could not have asked for anything more. He was spoiled, the only grandchild to be doted on. Mothering was so easy then. It’s laughable how easy it was. His needs were simple, and had a whole crew of people to meet them.
I can distinctly remember my mom and her girlfriend somewhat smugly telling Leigh and I babies bring baby problems, the older they get the bigger the problems. When you have a crying baby in your arms who will not quit, hearing something like that seems laughable. Eleven years into motherhood, I know what they said to be true. Babies do bring baby problems and pre-teens bring pre-teen problems. The silver lining here is pre-teens can go go-carting. I do not always let my kids have “friend” birthday parties, this year I gave Jax the okay. He wanted to take some buddies go-carting, so this past weekend we hit the 401 Mini Indy and had a blast. I think Wizz and I had as much fun watching them race as they did racing.
Today, when asked what dessert he wants, without hesitating he selected butter tarts. My most favourite. My work here is done. It’s too bad right after that he asked for the fifty-third time why he can’t get a cell phone.