Dollhouse

So, one of the gifts Ax got for his birthday is a fire station that has to be put together. It has about ten million and seven pieces and then once it’s complete it consists of basically two large open plastic boxes with a fire pole coming down from one of them and a bunch of miniature axes, walkie-talkies, helmets, smoke masks, and a couple of dolls, I mean firefighter action figures. There are also two beds that flip down from the wall, and a desk that has buttons on it where, “the girl firefighter sits and controls everything.” Hmmm. He’s obsessed. We had to put it together right away, all in one go, and then let him stay up late so he could “test” everything. Everything being I guess the pole, and the beds, and the desk. And the Axes. I tried to play a little too. I asked him if he was going to cook lunch for the firefighters so they could keep up their energy but he said no, there was no time to cook because there was an emergency. For the emergency the boy firefighter donned his smoke mask and slid down the pole and the girl firefighter banged on the keyboard a lot and yelled orders at the boy firefighter.

How did this happen? A couple of weeks ago this kid could barely walk. He just wanted to drink milk and snuggle and listen to stories. Now it feels like he’s closer to living on his own than to that. I mean, it’s a bit of an exaggeration since he still needs help with buckling his seat belt. But he doesn’t want to need help. And he’s determined to do things on his own.

He’s going to grow up and move on. And I’m so proud that we will help him do that as much as we can. But I miss the sweet baby and little boy he was. And I know I’m going to miss who he is now, this determined, kind, hilarious dude. So I’m going to do whatever it takes for me to enjoy him and this moment in my life while it’s happening. Now. Now. Now. Inhale, exhale, repeat. Inhale, exhale, repeat.