This morning, the Tastemaker showed up on my iChat screen.
"Do you think it’s OK to wear a water-resistant jacket on the slopes?"
"Sure, unless it is snowing really hard and/or you plan to fall a lot."
"I don’t fall. I fell once yesterday. On purpose."
"Well in that case, by all means."
"Do you think we can leave the heater on when we go snowboarding?"
This from an eighteen-year-old who might dream of asking my advice in person, just not in this lifetime.
When they are small, you get accustomed to the fact that development is never a straight shot forward from a to b, from here to there. Instead, it is a winding road that often heads off in odd directions and on a somewhat regular basis, leads you back to where you were, say, a year ago. That’s when you look around in confusion and wonder to yourself, "How, exactly, did we get here again? Here with the bottle when we had the sippy cup, the tantrum when we had cooperation, the up-the-middle-of-the-night-three-times when we had, sleep, blessed sleep?
Being the oldest, he has spent all eighteen of his years teaching me about motherhood. This latest lesson is that, no matter how far away they go to college, the forward push and the backward pull of growth continues. Online.