My nine-and-a-half-year-old son sat next to me in church last night. I looked at him and noticed a piece of white fuzz in his hair. I reached up, picked it out, and scratched him briefly on the head. And then, without any prompting, without a look or a sound, he leaned over and kissed me quickly on the cheek.
Just like that.
I spend a lot of time wondering about this firstborn child of mine. Am I pushing him too hard? Not hard enough? Does he resent how much time I spend with his siblings? Is he making good choices? Should we give him more priviliges? The wheels in my momma-brain seldom stop spinning where this boy is concerned.
But then, in a moment so simple and sacred that I caught my breath, my boy kissed me on the cheek. On his own.
Just like that.
And I know we're doing fine.
