Where are your wild things?

Where are your wild things? Today, I am missing my oldest wild thing. While most of my wild things are in Maryland, my oldest wild thing is in Colorado. He's doing well. He's independent, confident, a successful college student, and a contributing member of society. Yet somehow, when I think of him (even at twenty-one-years old) I see his impish four-year-old face running around the playground, giggling, and being chased by the "Mommy monster". It's funny how life plays reruns in our minds, while the real world continues to grow and change around us. I am glad to have the mental images of my mini-man that I can recall at any time. I even like it when I make a mistake and call one of my sons by another one's name. I think that's the Universe's way of reminding me to slow down and really see each child - while the frustrations of parenting might be similar, the children vary greatly. So, my oldest wild thing (whom I'm sure never reads my blog), for all those times I've called you by your brothers' names, for all the playground chases we've shared, and for all the times I've called you just to make sure you were doing alright (and you've said, "Mom, I'm not a little boy! I'm fine!"), I am not sorry. I am, above all other things, a mother, and some things will never change. I am thankful that you are my boy and proud of the man you have become. For those of you who are reading my blog (all 2-3 of you), please go call your mother. She probably misses you:-) Thanks for reading.