Little People

Sometimes it's hard to think of your children as independent creatures. Creatures with preferences, self-tuning biological clocks, creatures who form meaningful bonds and relationships with other small creatures.
I don't know why it's so easy to minimize your children's existential "being." Perhaps it's because we so painfully bear the responsibilities for their actions at this age (yes, that is the avalanche of applesauce jars that we started,) or because we feel so "in charge" of them. And, realistically, we are in charge. We dictate where they go, how they get there, what activities they participate in, where they go to school, and even what they wear. (I have previously documented my boys' style preference for hobo chic. But despite their own flair, they are choosing outfits based on clothes I bought for them.) Occasionally, we see our children from a different perspective, and a particular gesture or expression, or something reminds us that they are themselves. Miniature people, developing their own personalities. Shockingly, they may develop personalities that despite our best love and parenting are not compatible with our own. Weird to think that my boys, completely immersed in the things that M and I enjoy most (except for freakin' Disney Crap Live); completely immersed in our lives may not ever feel connected to those things.
Today, S's best friends in the world, his three girlfriends from school, came over to swim. He asked me every ten minutes if his friends were here yet. He was so excited that they were coming over--they weren't his brother's friend's siblings or anything; his very own best friends were coming to HIS house. He asked if we could go to Target to get the girls toys they might enjoy more than his Hot Wheels. He asked if we had snacks they all liked. He even asked if we had gotten rid of the peanut butter cookies Grandma had baked because of one friend's severe peanut allergy. I mean, this kid was on it--he was ready to be the host.
This whole preparation surprised me a bit. For one thing, he was incredibly thoughtful and accommodating to other people's needs and wants. For another, it was very well thought out. He had clearly been mulling these things over. Who knew?
Then, when the girls got here, he was so pleased. He brought the girls juice. He wanted to put the dog away when Clooney scared one of his friends.
It's not like he was perfectly behaved or anything: he didn't morph into Alex P. Keaton, uptight kid extraordinaire. He just was keenly aware of other people.
I know it's not in kids' natures to be aware of their parents' needs. Or wants. Or desperate desire to sleep past 6 AM. But I didn't even know they had the capacity to tend to other people in that way. It was sweet, and thoughtful, and made me look at S in a whole new light. And I understood why he and his three girlfriends are such good friends--they all treat each other like that. And in their own little way, are in a very grown up relationship. One that doesn't involve me at all--his own little independent friends.