Growing up

I feel I must explain immediately the joy I'm about to post, as the reality of it honestly makes me a little sad.  It is a bittersweet joy, I guess.

I've noticed lately how very quickly Noah is changing and growing up.  It seems that nearly every day I can tell differences in his facial features or size.  Sometimes I want to reach out and push pause, holding onto the little boy I love so much.  My joy though comes from the excitement and happiness he expresses on each little change.

Other than the obvious physical growth, there are cute changes that tickle me daily too.  For one, Noah's become very concerned and conscious about his hair.  The poor boy was blessed (or cursed) with a head full of wildly misbehaving curls and a double crown.  As a baby and toddler, I loved his sweet curls and remember my tearful visit for his first haircut to shorten them.  When he was old enough to talk, he would express frustration in the time it took me to wet them in hopes the crowns would obey.  Noah would sigh and say, "Those double crayons won't stay down!" 

Now that's he a pre-teen, he, of course, is not happy with the hair God gave him and would give anything for straight shaggy hair.  I can completely relate, as there are many days my curls give me a headache and I fret over the time it takes to straighten them.  Most days, I give up and into the curls in favor of more sleep!  Noah however would love nothing more for me to spend my mornings carefully straightening each of his curly locks.  And Tim has joined in on the fun by picking on him, with an oh so gentle tousle of his hair, which sends Noah running to the mirror to check out each strand. 

Yesterday, we were on our way to the dentist so I let him have a small snack, knowing it would be a couple hours after before he could eat.  Before we walked into the office he did a quick mirror check.  I hoped he was checking his teeth, as I know that is what I obsess over before seeing the dentist, but something else caught his eye.  He sat there, gently stroking his upper lip, with a sense of pride.  Upon my insistence that he hurry up he said, "Yep, this stache is coming in nicely."  I didn't know if I'd make it into the office with still dry pants!

On the way home, he's giving me the play by play of the events from the chair, happy with his results.  He spent a lot of time bragging that he didn't have any cavities, even though I never seem to think his teeth are clean enough.  And then he commented about having his man teeth already.  I didn't know quite how to respond to that but I asked....and he went on to explain that the doctor said the teeth that normally don't come in until 12 years have started to arrive early (Noah's 10).  He was certain this was proof that he truly was becoming a man!

Yep, never a dull moment around here with our growing boy!