Leave it to my son to recognize gender ambiguity in a snail (collected from our neighborhood during a dog walk to bring to school for “snail races” in science) and acknowledge it, along with ideas from his mother and father, in a 4-part name: “Sir Ma’am Sparky Swift.”

This encapsulates the charm of my boy.

12 years of an old soul in a young person, awkward and quirky, funny, mature, with selective hearing but ever-present love.

It’s such an honor to be my son’s mother.

He is the best of both his parents: loyal and loving, brilliant, responsible, creative, driven and fun.

But, he is also all of our insecurities and some of our faults, which somehow seemed to miss his sister: unsure of his place in the boy world of adolescence & middle school, worried about his present and future (except when he’s not), driven by the fear of disappointing those he loves, forgetful whenever things aren’t according to routine (ahem, forgetting to turn in fundraiser money, forgetting binder on bus, forgetting his trombone at school over Thanksgiving break).

As I watch him transition from child to teenager, and see the glimpses of the adult he’ll be, I tear up at the thought.

How did my little newborn become almost as tall as I am in the blink of an eye?  When I blink again, will it be to blink away tears at his high graduation? At his wedding? When he is holding his own newborn?

I don’t know the future, but I am glad for this present, to hang out with my son and talk about our favorite Food Network shows, drink milk tea with boba, eat lots of great food (and instagram it), and go to musicals.  While I probably will never quite be able to share in bonding over video games in the same way as he can with his dad, I am grateful for Nate’s appreciation of who each one of us in the family is, and I am grateful for who he is.

He is extraordinary. He’s a keeper.

(Unlike Sir Ma’am Sparky Swift, who will be returned to a non-plastic, natural habitat soon…)