There’s something about the age of eight, when children turn from “little” to “big” in subtle ways. The changes are somewhat remarkable, albeit mundane for non-parents. Examples:
- On Saturday, I had a detailed and philosophical conversation with B. about the differences between henchmen, minions, and sidekicks in the realm of superheroes.
- Later that afternoon, we played Monopoly together, and he was the banker — and had no problems with it.
- And when he got a paper cut from Monopoly money, he didn’t even need me to get him a bandage…he did it all himself, from opening the cabinet to finding the right size to putting it on his finger.
Being the mother of a such a remarkable child — and an older one, who’s just as amazing with what he’s been doing — is one of the biggest gifts I could have imagined. My biggest challenge today is learning to make do with the two children I have… because it’s moments like the ones above that leave me yearning — no, lusting — for another baby.