Overalls

I've got five pockets in my overalls

      When Owen was about 18 months old he had this pair of Osh-Kosh overalls that he wore all the time.  Thinking that he was a kid who loved overalls, I went out and bought him two more pairs -  one blue and one red and both corduroy. I tried and tried to get him to wear them, but he only loved this one pair.   I loved these overalls too.  They looked so adorable on his little self.

   Last Saturday, Owen attended the Grande Ball for the Cotillion class he participated in this year. He did not wear overalls.  He reluctantly agreed to wear a tux. Once he arrived at the ball and confirmed that his buddies were dressed in a similar fashion he decided that maybe the tux wasn't so bad after all - which is pretty high praise from him where all things "cotillion" are concerned.

Not overalls, but there are pockets.

Cheers!

After the ball was over, all the moms and sons went to Chili's for dinner.  We tried to go to Ruby Tuesday's, but they were too crowded with early bird diners to seat us and to Ruby Tuesday's I just have to say - look at what you missed out on.  These guys were the best looking diners in the restaurant that night.  The boys sat in their own booth and toasted whatever it is that eleven and twelve year old boys toast with their mugs and bottles of apple juice and root beer and lemonade.  It was a good night.  On Sunday, Owen and I spent some time together packing his bags so that we could wake up not so bright but very early Monday morning and drop him off at the bus that would take him on his first extended trip away from home. He gave me a hug before we left the house (he didn't want to have to deal with all that messy emotional stuff in the school parking lot ) so the drop-off at school was just that.  He got out of the car, walked to the bus, stowed his bags underneath,  and told us he'd see us on Friday.   

     On the way to work, Joel said that after all of the events of the weekend it kind of felt like we were sending Owen off to college.  I told him to hush because I didn't want to think about it. And I don't want to think about it. It's been 10 years since he spent his days walking around in Osh-Kosh overalls, but we're only 6 years away from sending him off to college (knock on wood).

     Back to the overalls, I'm nostalgic about his sweet little eighteen month old self this morning because things with him are stormy at present - good, but stormy. He needs us, he doesn't need us. He's happy to see us, we embarrass him by our mere presence. He wants more freedom, but not necessarily more responsibility. He doesn't know everything (yet), but he's beginning to believe that we don't know much of anything. They're called "growing pains" for a reason, I guess. To that end - "Lord, grant me the serenity to accept my (moody) child for who he is today; the courage to hold my ground as his parent even when he hates me for it; and the wisdom to pick my battles with him judiciously no matter how effectively he's pushing my buttons." It's my new "Serenity Now!" prayer for the tween years. I'm buckling up too, because I'm pretty sure we're in for a bumpy ride.