Just the beginning

MAXIMO: The greatest. 

When I was pregnant with Max, one of the definitions I read said "will do great things." We chose to name him after a grandfather and a great-grandfather. Not to burden him with expectations, but to bestow on him a connection to two men who personified being a gentleman's gentleman, men who had qualities we admired and thought would serve him well.

All that seems so long ago. The tiny person whose feeding and sleeping I agonized over is now 18. He went to his prom last week. He graduates from high school a week from today. He has a job and could care less about my opinion of the clothes he wears. He has learned to navigate (mostly) on his own. And I am awed.

A friend asked me yesterday how I dealt with my boy being all grown up and I realized I was doing much better than I thought I would. I am spending more time looking at his little boy pictures, but I also am thrilled by the young man who proudly picked out birthday presents for me (ones I really liked!). Remembering his pudgy hand in mine is bittersweet, seeing him in a tuxedo is awesome in the truest sense of the word. And as I told my friend yesterday, that grown up façade cracks now and again, particularly when he is sleepy or a bit overwhelmed. And he props his head on my shoulder - even though he has to duck to do so - and lets me be mom for another few minutes.

I take no credit for this wonderful young man, one who truly is the greatest and will continue to do great things. I can only continue to love him fiercely and be proud of all he is and will be.