When they are yours

I have a fear. I will be a super crabby and strict parent. And no fun. Upon my arrival, my little sister thought we'd be having photo-shoots and playing dress-ups every day. Well, we don't. Since then she and I have had several encounters that have made me wonder if I could ever parent an 8 year old.

I feel as if I spend 90% of my time correcting her poor behavior. Is that me? Am I mean? Why am I so impatient with her?

It seems that I will just have to grow and change and learn as he does. I am willing. Because he is mine.

My parents asked, "How old are you?"

I answered, "Eight."

"Would you like to live to see NINE?"

Really, they were the ones hoping that they could survive my eighth year, I'm sure of it.

They always made it, taking it one year at a time, because they looked at me and saw their baby.

My baby boy took these photos, I am so proud. He told me where to set up the camera, and used the remote. Precious photos. And we will make it to eight and beyond, together.