One of the most amazing things (and there is quite a list) about being a parent is being able to watch your kids blossom and come into their own. It is one of life’s greater joys.
When The Ex and I separated, even though he tended to be a little shy, Nick slowly began filling some of the roles of being the man of the house. Taking on more responsibility. Thinking about things that normal (then) seven and eight year olds wouldn’t. Being a protector of his sister and I.
And while that was wonderful, I had a keen interest in letting him continue being a child as well.
I don’t want either of them to grow up before their time due to unforeseen circumstances in their environment.
Kids should be kids.
And things eventually leveled out and our family dynamic grew into a new normal.
A new routine.
New ebbs and flows and responsibilities and adventures.
But something happened last year.
Sometime in the second half of the year.
And I can’t quite put my finger on where the shift exactly was. Or what motivated it.
And it could all just be part of the evolution as children grow up.
But Nick started really coming into his own.
Becoming more and more outgoing. More brave. More forthright.
Just plain more.
And I can’t even tell you how that makes my heart swell.
And especially this year.
He has completely lived outside of his box. His comfort zone. Out of what normally he would do.
And he couldn’t be better for it.
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