On Friday, my First Baby graduated from junior high. I had been on an emotional roller coaster in anticipation of the event for weeks. It was very much like the summer before he started Kindergarten. I cried for an entire MONTH that summer. Every time I would think about leaving my son in a classroom with a bunch of people he didn’t know, I would begin to sob.
And for the past few weeks, every time I would think about that same little boy walking across a stage to receive his promotion certificate, I would cry.
I was pretty much alone on The Emotional Roller Coaster, because My Baby’s Daddy is one of Those Men who do not cry.
Crying is for wimps! Men do not cry! If I cry you will think that I am weak!
He has had a few moments in which a tear has formed in his eye and rolled down his cheek, like when he watched my vagina stretch to the size of a pumpkin as our babies were born, or when Shelby died on Steel Magnolias. And I swear, each and every of those 6 times that I saw him (almost) cry, I started sobbing because “oh my God, it’s so beautiful when you show me you’re emotions!”
Last week, we were sitting on (not) our bed talking about various things—like all of the Car Accident Drama (because OMG, there is drama, people.), how much we hate our insurance company (which rhymes with Jerk-ury), Kobe Bryant and our children.. My husband began talking about our oldest son and how hard it is for him to believe that our first baby was graduating from junior high.
All of a sudden, he started to cry.
I mean, really cry.
And because I honestly can not watch my husband cry without breaking the hell down, I started to cry with him.
We just sat there and wept about how fast our First Baby has grown. We talked about all of the thousands of memories we’ve made with him over the past 14 years. We sobbed as we pondered how the saying “enjoy them while their little” is so cliché, but so damn true. Because one day he was running around in his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles jumpsuit showing off his killer ninja moves and we blinked our eyes and he was filling out high school paperwork and checking “Military” as his career choice. (But let’s not even TALK ABOUT THAT right now.)
We sat there talking, crying and laughing about this beautiful child that we conceived in love—the child who was obsessed with Snow White as a toddler and would cry and scream at nap time because he wanted to watch “Hi Ho!” The child who really isn’t a child anymore, but a budding young man, with a fuzz’stache and Man Voice who will be walking onto a high school campus as a freshman in just a few short weeks.
We talked about his promotion ceremony. How would we feel when they called his name? I predicted we would cry, because if just thinking about it made us sob like sissies, how could we NOT cry in the actual moment?
Friday came and that moment I had imagined in my mind for the past few weeks finally happened. I was sitting there, with my good for nothing camera, waiting for them to call his name. Tony started poking me on the shoulder.
“There he is, Y. There’s our boy!”
I turned to my right and saw my son standing there, looking all handsome (and awkward) in white shirt and tie. I felt this wave of emotion take over my entire body. I took a deep breath, expecting to break down in tears.
But I didn’t. Instead, I felt this unspeakable joy.
And love.
And pride.
They called his name from the loud speaker. I jumped up out of my seat and started to cheer as he walked across the gym floor.
“Whooo! Hoooo! Way to go Andrew! WHOOOO!”
I was so excited and caught up in the moment that I almost forgot to take a picture.
Luckily I was able to snap this picture (with my piece of crap camera) before it was too late.
I’m a little sad this is the only shot I got of that moment. Because that’s a moment that I never want to forget, for as long as I live.
I don’t write much about my son on this blog, and some may think it’s because I don’t love him as much as I love my daughter, but those people would be so very wrong. I stopped writing about my son when he stopped being a little boy and started being a young man out of respect for his privacy. I don’t ever want my son to hate me because of a blawwwg. But, today I’m making an exception. Because promotion from junior high is a milestone that must be acknowledged and because I am so proud of that kid and the man he is shaping up to be.
(I'll have to ask for his forgiveness about the "Hi! Ho!" reference, though. Thanks to Joelle for pointing THAT out.)
That young man, whether he knows it or not, holds a huge chunk of my heart in his still growing hands, because no matter how grown he is, in my eyes, he will forever be the baby that made me a mother.
I can emphathize.
My oldest is a Senior and my daughter will be a Freshman. Talk about an emotional roller-coaster!
Your such a good Mom, Y!