When I was leaving the gym today, I was watching two teenage boys who were walking ahead of me on the basketball court. They were probably 15-ish. With their long basketball shorts and the t-shirts with the sleeves cut off. So tall, fit and muscular...yet so young.

Then I started to imagine what you might be like at that age. Independent, I'm sure. Hanging around with your friends, pursuing your own hobbies and interests. Making your way in life as you approach adulthood.

I can't help but wonder what our relationship will be like then. Lately you've been incredibly cuddly and affectionate. And you always want to be with me or go where I'm going. You're my little buddy and I love this stage. But I know it won't last forever. There will come a time when you'll want me to stop grabbing you up for hugs and kisses every five seconds, tickling you, tidying up your room or picking out your clothes (oh, wait, you stopped letting me do that a long time ago).

But when you're 15, what will "we" be like? Will we talk about things? Will we share activities together? Will we eat family dinners and catch up on each other's lives?

I tried to picture you walking alongside those boys, carrying a basketball. But all I succeeded in was getting choked up at the fact that our relationship will surely change as you grow older. It's meant to. I know. But you'll never be this exact age again. You won't tell me the funny things that you do right now. You won't stand shyly behind me when we're with my friends and hide your head underneath my shirt. You won't ask me to help you chase the bear around the living room and you won't peek out from the grocery cart and say, "Hey, Mommy! I went poopy on the potty at Wanda's house today." You won't stick raspberries on the tips of your fingers (well, maybe you'll still do that).

I know I have lots of other great stuff to look forward to. I need to keep a positive perspective on it. We're going to try to help you grow into a strong, caring and confident young man who has the whole world ahead of him. Yet part of me wants to hold on to the silly, sweet and exasperating 3-year-old you are right now.

Posted on July 10, 2007 02:04 PM