A child who is nine years old seems so old when you are holding a newborn, or dealing with the frustrations of a toddler. But now that Eddie is 9, I can't fully believe it. On the one hand, I'm really happy to watch him grow. It's so fun to see the world through his eyes, to (hopefully) influence him still. Yet, this is also the half-way point. We are 50% done with raising Eddie. And from that perspective, it scares the heck out of me! There is so much more to teach him, that I feel like there isn't hardly any time left. Only 8, maybe 9 more summers, Spring Breaks, etc.
I'm already losing my grip on him -- his birthday was this past weekend. We threw him a huge laser tag party with 18 friends on Friday night, the day before his birthday. He then requested to have one kid spend the night after. The next night, a good friend, who also shares the same birthdate, had a slumber party with 7 other kids. So for the first time since he was born, we were not with him on his birthday to tuck him in. At the time we were talking with him about making the decision, it seemed like it would be harder on him than me. But in reality, in the end, it was way harder on me than him. He was occupied with all sorts of fun things. All I could think about was the first night he was born and how I was not going to be tucking him in.
It's thrilling to know I'm raising a child (or raising an adult) to be independent, but jarring when they start being independent. Happy Birthday Eddie! You make your dad and I so proud.
