My youngest turns 10 in two weeks.
Let that sink in for a moment. T E N. Double digits for both of my babies. I can hardly believe it.
We’ve run full steam into the tweens and I no longer find myself dealing with the easy issues like legos and boogers. Enter: INSECURITY. Enter: CONCERN. Enter: ANXIETY. Enter: EMBARRASSMENT.
Everything is getting more complex.
The soon-to-be-10 year old has developed a recent, shall we say, penchant for dancing. (When I say dancing I mean MOVES, yo.) He watches his favorite band Big Time Rush execute choreographed masterpieces and he wishes to do the same. (Incidentally, mommy now knows the words to EVERY SINGLE Big Time Rush song. Oh. Yeah.) Yesterday, he and my niece found a “kicking” tune online and invented their own dance to go with it. Let me pause here and say, it was pretty darn good. (Thanks Dance Central!) They were perfectly in sync. I was impressed.
He has never cared what others thought of him. Ever. He has been his own man since he could walk.
Of course I understand. I’ve been there. Oh, haven’t we all? I gave him a pretty killer mommy pep talk and encouraged him to follow his interests and do what he loves despite what others think. I think he understood. He is an extraordinarily intelligent boy.
This conversation, however, marks a new chapter in my understanding of his development and maturity. I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.
So, until he is ready, this family will only be busting a move in private in front of the Kinect screen. That’s okay. Mommy has no skills anyway. Seeing me dance in front of his friends? Now that would be WAY MORE embarrassing…