I remember the first Mother's Day card. I know I have it saved somewhere in a box. It was terribly sweet. My son was just over a year, my husband picked out and signed a card from him with all of his favorite words, like MAMA! DADA! BALL! NO! and such. Aww, it pulled at my heart strings.
Spoiler alert: We usually pick out the cards our kids give to one another, it's just easier to surprise each other that way. So through the years, we've given one another adorably cute cards on behalf of our children, asking them to scribble in their names and a sweet sentiment.
This year was different.
My husband still picked out the card, but it wasn't a "Mommy" card... it was a "Mom" card. Because he's not a little boy anymore, he's 14 years old.
The changes happen daily—a dusting of hair on his upper lip, his jeans getting incrementally shorter, his shoe size now matching mine. His voice is cracking, his words becoming more complex. No more MAMA! DADA! BALL! Now he's more slang words I don't understand, heavy sighs of irritation when I tell him to finish his chores and constant mumbles under his breath.
He's becoming a man but I guess I didn't recognize it until this card, this very grown-up card that I opened Sunday morning.
It's the shape of things to come. I sure hope I'm up to the challenge.