The Door to Independence

{This series was inspired by my son's sixth grade english assignment
 of writing for six minutes, without edits or overthinking it.  
I'll be posting daily quick writes for the month of March.}

Yesterday I caught a glimpse of the teenager that my son will be in a few years.  He glared at me, barked something about how I ruined his perfectly good day by enforcing trumpet practice and threw his prepubescent body on top of his bed and laid there in silent protest.

I walked away.

Took a few deep breaths and quietly chuckled to myself while chopping root vegetables that he will most likely push around on his plate during dinner.

It's coming.

He's almost 12 and the increased attitude and shift in him is happening right before my eyes.  Everyday he is recalibrating himself towards the man he will one day be.  Ratcheting up his opinions and pushing back when he doesn't want to do what we want him to do.  Forming opinions and testing limits.

I realize he's taking baby steps towards a great big door called Independence.  Leaving his mark and trying new things on for size are what's happening right now.  I'm here, not too far behind him, making sure he doesn't wobble too much or fall over.  Supporting him, acting as cheerleader and disciplinarian at the same time, has been my occupation for almost a dozen years.  I'm slowly starting to understand that right now he will need to scrape his knees a bit and brush himself off without me.  I know this is all normal and completely to be expected, but it's my first time, as well as my last time, going through this new phase with my only child.

The door to Independence is unlocked and ajar and he's approaching it with great speed.

I just know the man that will emerge on the other side is one I will be proud of.  However, I feel a weight of responsibility in making sure he has the necessary tools available to him to help open that door with strength of character and knowledge that he is loved by us.

I just wish he would take it a little slower.