Tags
aliens, Big Wheel, Coming of Age, Coming of Age Novels, Godzilla, growing up, photographs, remembering childhood, Teenagers
I miss these guys...
My son parked behind me again. No matter how many times I tell him not to park behind my car, he does it anyway. It drives me crazy.
“Greg! Move your car.”
“I will. Just let me… (insert any of the following) make a sandwich, find out the score of the game, get something to drink, grab my workout clothes, finish texting). Doesn’t matter. He’ll forget.
I can’t believe my youngest child is driving. Whenever I picture him in a vehicle, it’s a Big Wheel tricycle. I can see him whizzing around the Cul de Sac with the wind in his hair and a toothless grin on his face.
“Look, Mommy!” he’d call before he did a “spin-out” by braking fast and sharply turning his handlebars. He really believed he was performing a daring feat, so no matter how many times he did it, I always acted amazed…and frightened.
“Oh, no! Don’t do that, Greg. You’re scaring me.”
His response was always the same.
“It’s okay. I’m big enough now.”
“You’re so brave.”
His eyes sparkled with pride.
I wonder when he rode his Big Wheel for the last time? Obviously, he didn’t know it would be the last time. How could he? It just happens. I wonder if he would’ve known ‘this is it…this will be the last spin out, the last screech of the wheels against the sidewalk I’ll ever make’ would he have cherished the moment? I know I would have.
It seems when he got off his Big Wheel that night, he thought he’d ride it the next morning. Instead, the plastic, low-rider, tricycle collected dust and took up room in our garage until we moved.
Life is full of those moments–the last time we do something. When I pushed Greg on the swings as he said, “High-oh, Mommy! I wanna be in “other” space!” I didn’t realize it would be the last time before he learned to pump his legs. If I’d have known, I might have pushed him for a few minutes longer.
Greg had a thing about “other space” spaceships and aliens. I remember always picking up his little plastic aliens from the driveway—the kind from gumball machines and Dollar Stores. He had a huge collection. I wish I would’ve stopped whatever I was doing and watched the last time he dumped out his bucket of little aliens to set up another battle on the driveway. He did this all the time, but oddly, I don’t have a single picture of him doing it. Why? Maybe, at the time, it seemed too ordinary to pull out the camera. Or, I thought I’d catch it ‘next time.’
I’d love to see a video of him drawing boundaries with bright chalk lines on the driveway like a map. Although Gregory was very creative in his drawings; he was never very strategic. It was always the same. He’d lined them up on either side the chalk borders facing each other– alien vs. alien. How he chose which ones he’d knock down and which ones he’d let stand in triumph, I’ll never know. What was I doing that was so important that I never asked him?
As he made his way down the line, he’d make them grapple a moment in his hands as he made snarling and fighting noises. Other times, he used his giant 20-inch Godzilla to mow them all down leaving a colorful alien annihilation across my driveway. Yes, I’d love to have video of Gregzilla lumbering down the line of aliens kicking them over with Godzilla’s feet.
“Greg, if you’re finished playing with them, you need to pick them up.”
“I will, Mommy. Just after I… (insert any of the following) find my red ball, look for worms, hop on one leg ten times, hide until you find me.” It didn’t matter. He’d forget.
Just when does a boy step over the line and become a young man? It’s hard to tell, which is why I believe ‘coming of age’ stories are so popular.
Since it is Monday and I’m supposed to be doing a book review, I’ve listed several of my favorite classic “coming of age” books in no special order. Please feel free to add some to the list.
- Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
- Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane
- To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee
- A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
- North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell
Once your child crosses that bridge into young adulthood, you cherish memories of scraped knees healed by a Mommy kiss and a Spider Man bandage. You’ll laugh at the dirty handprints on the back of your clean blouse because he just had to hug you one more time before you left. You’ll always remember how he greeted you with a muddy fist full of Dandelions when you returned.
Now it’s curfews, SAT scores, driver’s license drama, video games, football and girls. Instead of hamming it up in front of the camera like he used to, he hates to be photographed.
Birthdays and recitals make great pictures, but I’d love have more photos of the ordinary, everyday things my boys did when there seemed to be no reason to take the camera out at all. You won’t know when it will be the last time they do something.
Godzilla is long gone, lost in another move. However, the bucket of plastic aliens is safe on the top shelf in his closet. Next time we move, they’re coming with me in the car.
Where’s my camera? I’m going to take a picture of his car parked behind mine. Someday, I might remember it with fondness.
Ok, that was great. *sniff* I might seriously consider sprucing this up for publication in a magazine and shopping it.
Thanks, Mike. I don’t know the first thing about magazine publishing. I wanted to capture a different tone–see if I could find another voice for this one. Thanks for reading.
That just makes me think back to those days with Ryan.
Of course he is always parking behind me or Nancy. ARRRG!
You still have a little one. Enjoy! Look at you balancing pre-school and teenagers at the same time. They should give you a medal. Thanks for reading, Perry.
I remember that kid on a big wheel!! This was great Kristine!
Those were the days, huh? He also had a huge crush on Stephanie and found every reason to be on that side of the cul de sac, remember?
This is great, Kristine! Emma Bombeck would be proud of you. Yes… these tidbits should go directly to some big magazine like Emma Bombeck did. Everyone would love your stories . Do you have more? What a question! Look forward to more.
The Tweets
Thanks for reading it. And thanks for your belief in me. 🙂
OK, All the moms just took out the tissue! Those of us with “almost grown up” boys anyway. We were just talking about the action figures and hot wheels that were found in every nook and cranny when we cleaned house. More than once Todd had to take off the toilet and resuce one so the plumbing would work again. Thanks for triggering those special memories.
It goes so fast, doesn’t it? It makes me want to cry sometimes, but I’m also happy to see him grow up and experience other things like his first job, first date, first Prom etc., etc.
So good, Kristine. You caught me with the last paragraph. Wasn’t expecting it. Great way to tie it all up. You put a beautiful bow on your lovely story about a mother’s appreciation of and reflection on her son at every stage of his life; taking a step back from the ordinariness of each day to realize that the “ordinary”, even aggravating, things are precious too. You know my family’s situation. I can tell you that my mom has said she’d love to find Chad’s shoes lying around where they’re not supposed to be for her to pick up and put away or to be able to scrub out a ring he just left around the shower tub. I admire that you don’t need a tragedy to know that even the annoying things kids do are ultimately a gift (within reason, of course) ; ).
Thanks, Chris. I appreciate your words so much. I try to remember that every stage is special and has its postives and negatives. You’re right, no matter what, it’s a gift.
You certainly opened the tear ducts on that one. My high school senior actually remembered to take out the trash last night with out nagging. Now if he could just remember where he left the keys.
Love reading your blog.
Thanks, Janet! Glad you enjoy the Blog.
Wow! That was wonderful! You seriously are a talented writer and I agree with the others, you should figure out how to publish this is a magazine. Your story deeply moved me, as I have a growing son too. He just turned 19 and is experiencing all of the adult firsts. Please keep writing things like this story. They are truely a gift to the reader.
Thanks, Kathy! It seems a lot of us are at that stage with our kids. It’s an emotional time for us mother hens. Thanks for reading and for your compliments!
I LOVE how you ended this!!!!!!!!!!!! Brilliant! I agree with an earlier poster that you should tighten it in places and look for parenting magazines to submit it too!
Thanks, Aaron! It means a lot coming from you. 🙂
As the mother of a boy and just a mother in general, I LOVED, LOVED, LOVED this! So many ordinary things now only to be seen in my memory or discussed with the only other person that cares as much as I do…the father of my son and daughter, my husband! Ordinary becones extra ordinary when it is locked in our memories!
I’m glad you liked it. Yes, it is in our memory the ordinary becomes extrordinary. I love how you said that. Can I steal it? It’s so funny to see other people’s kids. I see yours and they look so grown up to me because I remember H with a big bow in her hair and C small enough to have a passy. Then, I realize mine are almost the same age (and older). It’s hard to see when it happens right in front of you.