No one really knows what it means to be a parent until they are. Everyone has heard of diapers, midnight feedings and throwing up, but it's not until it falls on your shoulders (both literally and metaphorically) that it clicks that you are a parent.
However, it's also not until that self-recognition and acceptance happens that you're able to truly enjoy your child. Or even understand that phrase. Everyone has baby stories about them, but no one realizes that those baby stories are etched permanently on the record your parent(s)' soul(s).
To think of what stories were told of me, (hitting my brothers from a young age, sitting in the middle of the table, etc.)I can't help but wonder what one of my son's phrases or habits will seep into my mind at his first game or college graduation. I think of how he adores sticks, and makes them into swords or just chases me around with them. Or, how he always wants to save the last two bites on his plate for later until I finally clean out all the extra child plates from the fridge. I think of how he requests to be held like a baby, because somehow he knows that he is not. I truly understand now what a fleeting moment is. It's a moment in which he turns back because he forgot to give you a kissy and say "I love you". It's an astute observation, "Mommy, I think there are a lot of trees on this street". It's him, banging on the metal trash can at 7 am on a Saturday and you begging him to be quiet for just a few more moments...
Yet, each day he's becoming a man. It wasn't two days ago that he argued his way to a happy meal.
"Xavier, we're only getting food that we don't have at home. Do you understand? That means you're only getting chicken nuggets. No juice and no fries."
"But we don't have fries at home mommy."
I think of how one day, not far from now, I will wonder where my little guy went and who is in his place. My parents said they still see me in my two year old form... but I never knew what they meant.
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