I am a mother of two boys. An eight and a four. It is awesome, this thing that moms are made of. Such a proportional mix of ingredients that can barely ever go wrong.
Seven year old Yaani told me one day, “Ma, you have gotten very short. See, I am almost next to your shoulder now,” and with an expression of great concern, leveled his palm with my shoulder,from his head. He sounded so matter of fact.
Oh man! How did I not notice I was shrinking shorter each day. The boys are growing up, and luckily, for me, I am not, at least to them. I realize my boys are getting taller in height and bigger in thoughts. I do not fear the day he will have grown past my shoulder. It will only concern me if some other creature feels smaller, just because he got bigger. I will equip them with power- enough for them to stand strong on their roots, not more that it uproots another.
If there is one institution that allows the girl a lot of freedom, it is a mother,raising her boy right.
I have always ached for a girl. Sometimes, strong pangs, sometimes a lingering ache and most times a wish, the thought of which puts a smile on my face. And everyday, I silently promise myself, I will give a girl the man she can be proud of.