Parenting with humility

I hold my boy,

Ben,

on my lap

right before his bedtime.

Daddy is calling that "It's time for a Bible Story!"

so I've got just one more minute.

One more minute to feel his weight in my arms,

to examine his bug bites and scrapes from the day's play,

a moment more to notice how well-defined his muscles and feet have become

as they dangle at my shins.

"You've grown, Ben-boy!"

"Yup!"

Someday, you'll be bigger than mama.  Did you realize that?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

Someday, you'll be as big as daddy and Jake and Nick?

You'll be able to carry me, like I'm holding you, if you needed to.

Isn't that amazing?

Ben nods, happy at the thought of growing.

I squeeze him one more time,

stamping the memory upon my heart

of a sweet little boy that I can still hold on my lap.

My mind flashes ahead thru the years to the day that he may, indeed,

carry me

thru infirmity

or hold my hand down the stairs

like I sometimes do

for my own mama and daddy.

Knowing that someday

we will switch roles

makes me parent

with

humility.