Sometimes things change so gradually that you almost don’t notice the imperceptible shift as it happens.  Nowhere is this more true than with kids (“days are long, but the years are short”).  Lately, though, I’ve been paying attention with my soon-to-be middle schooler.  Things are moving too fast. 

The chubby baby face is gone, but he still crawls up in my lap, all arms-and-legs-and-bony-butt.  He bowls me over with big hugs and kisses, and his height is so perfect that I can stand behind him and rest my chin on top of his head without having to bend over at all.

But there are little things that tell me that a shift is happening…..his hair is long and messy, and I can’t get him to change his stinky hoodie, nor can I convince him that socks are only meant to be worn once before they are washed.  His sneakers are so big that I recently mistook one of them for my own, and brought it to the gym. It fit me.

We sat today at our morning coffee date.  Today’s location (always his choice) was a donut shop.

Putting his retainer case on the table, he started the conversation:  How many days until Christmas?  How many school days left until Christmas break?  How many days left until the end of the school year?  I realized we are almost at the halfway point.  I told him to enjoy the rest of the school year, and his final days at our much-beloved elementary school.  Middle school will be different and fun, I said, but it will never be the same as these days.

Then for the first time – I noticed – he is holding his hot cocoa mug differently…..not in the double-handed style of a child, but in a quiet, confident way, sitting back, legs crossed like an adult man, chatting with his mom.  I had an instant flash-forward to meeting my future college kid for coffee, in between his classes.

The shift is happening. 

If only this epiphany had not been punctuated by a Coldplay song playing in the background.  Anyone but Coldplay.  I never enjoyed them but used to tolerate them for my husband’s sake, and then their fate was sealed.  A Coldplay CD was in our car the weekend that my uncle died unexpectedly.  I can’t listen to Coldplay.

Why couldn’t the background music to this parenting moment be something melancholy? (Bob Dylan?). Triumphant? (Pearl Jam’s “Given to Fly”?)  Even The Wiggles……just not Coldplay.

But of course, that’s the thing – we can’t choose.  We can’t choose the moments, or when we will notice things, or what the soundtrack will be.  All we can do is pay attention.

And of course, we can be relieved when our nearly-college-age kid reverts back to 10 year old obnoxious older brother, asking, “Hey Mom, do you think my sister is color blind?” (“No, why?”).  “Well, have you seen some of her outfits?”