"Change is inevitable...

...except from a vending machine."

~Robert C. Gallagher

There was a time when my children were so little. Their young faces looked up at me with trust, and love, and I was the all knowing, magical mother who could do anything. My wise words were gospel, and my children clung to me each day like sailors clinging to a ship in a storm.

Now, I have an 'almost 18' year old daughter, and a 13 year old son. My daughter literally looks me in the eye and speaks to me like an equal, and this year my son has grown so tall he now looks down at me and debates issues with me. When did THIS happen?

Wasn't it only yesterday that my daughter lost her binky, and I searched (frantically) to find it while she cried inconsolable tears? Wasn't it only yesterday that my son drank warm milk from my breast, and snuggled into my chest to be safe and warm? Only a parent can be keenly aware of the impermanence of all things by watching their children grow. Its a fact that all things change, and the reality of it strikes the heart of every parent that sees their child each and every day, and notices something that day is different.

Today, I took my son surfing. He's not really gaga about going into the cold ocean, but he went today so he could be with me. He warmed my heart, taking time out from his video games to come and play with me. The Pacific ocean, on the other hand, is a cruel maternal expanse that never seems to warm no matter how bright the sun shines. Her waters are a shivering bath for any human who flocks to her shores.  If it weren't for wet-suits, I surely wouldn't brave it. But the armor of full body neoprene gives me courage, and cold or  not, I love the ocean. I love to surf.

Sean and I donned the wet suits. He took my 'banana board', a  yellow 8'2", and I grabbed Kira's 'Robert August', a narrow red striped 8'6" board, and we jumped into the water at Mondos this afternoon.  The waves were perfect size. Three to four feet max, and there was only a little current and almost no wind. An ideal day for surfing. At first, Sean was intimidated at how big the waves looked, but after his first couple of rides, his self assurance took over. I saw him smile, and he grinned even bigger when he realized he could paddle out faster than I could take my heavy butt out to the waves on my board. We surfed a good hour and a half, and when I got tired and he got cold, we headed to shore and back to the van.

As we removed our wetsuits, my eyes kept drifting down to view the tufts of hair that have formed underneath his arms. Thick patches now grew there, when only a year ago I swear they were bare. Where did my little boy go? I wondered. Yes, he was still my son, but now he towered over me, and his body hair was prominent. His voice had dropped at least 2 octaves lower, and I no longer confused him with my daughters voice on the telephone. We packed up the wetsuits and rinsed off with the hot water I'd brought in a jug, got dressed and then headed home.

In order to feel like a Mom once again, I stopped at GameStop to pick up a game he'd been wanting for a while. Infamous 2.  A pretty awesome game with fantastic graphics.  Yes, it was probably a total overspend, but the super-D-duper pack was on sale and I forked out $60.00 just to feel maternal again. Isn't that sad? I relished the smile on my son's face, and for a brief moment was taken back to Christmas mornings when he would come in to the living room and look at the Christmas tree with wonder in his eyes. I almost cried when I thought of it.

I had to get back to the house in time to eat and then have my daughter take me to a Pilates class. She'd been wanting to share her favorite class with me for a while. Even though I'm supposed to be studying for my dissertation defense tomorrow, I geared up in my stretchy pants and my daughter drove me to the exercise studio. When did my daughter start driving? I pondered how it all had happened so fast. One day I'm taking her to a friends house, or dropping her off so she and her friend can go shopping at a nearby mall, and the next day she's driving me all over town. I'm still shaking my head as I write this, remembering how we discussed life choices in the kitchen the other day, and debated over philosophies of life and karma. My daughter. Talking to me about life, and philosophy. Graduated from High School. Starting college this year.

Change IS inevitable, but its never struck me so hard, never knocked me on my butt so squarely as when I take time to look at my children and realize their almost all grown. They are their own little people now, making their own choices, fumbling with relationships, learning from mistakes (I hope) and seldom needing me to make things right. Yet, at the end of the day, they still kiss me and hug me so tightly that there is no doubt in my mind the great love they have for me. And the trust. And I still can't help but fall asleep with a misty tear filling at least one eye when I think of it. Change is tough, but it is wonderful.  I might as well embrace it, and try not to waste each precious moment that comes my way. Like the Borg, resistance is futile.

~Cin