My Grown Baby

Today was Hippo’s first day back at school about 3 weeks after his friends. Because Hippo started at a new school. That’s right, Hippo has started the 3rd grade at a brand new school where he knows no one and the schedule is completely different. I think I was more of a mess than he was, to be honest. I asked him a million times if he was okay, and he only answered with a smile. He let go of my hand in the middle of the intersection and marched across with confidence in his uniformed shorts and checkered Vans. Looking like a young man of 10. How was I? A bumbling mess.

I have always been able to flow with change. Growing up in the entertainment industry, I was raised knowing that life, love and career is fluid and ever changing. Evolving and growing. Change. Change is imminent. I approached my life that way. I have approached my disease that way. Ready and accepting of change. Until I had my child. I hate change. I don’t accept change. And yet, this kid just keeps on changing. Changing his height, his facial expressions, his speech…the tone in his voice. My baby is now this grown…baby, boy…man, baby. He looked so grown up in his uniform with the other kids hanging out on the steps chatting about video games and auditions. Math problems and foreign policy. Pizza toppings and baseball game scores. Yesterday my kid was someone else completely. This morning, in a matter of minutes, he became independent and self sufficient. He made friends quickly and joined the Student Council. Student Council? Yes, Student Council. It’s like he’s found his home in his new school. The long face watching his friends walk into his old school, has lifted and he’s renewed. But my baby didn’t come bounding out of that school today. I’m not sure who he is, but I don’t think he’s going away. This new grown Hippo, is here to stay.

Send tissues…mama’s not ready.