As Gavin was excitedly telling me all the details of his field trip yesterday he took this out of his backpack.
Me: What is this?
G: I don’t know.
Me: Did she give this to you?
G: No, it was just in my backpack. Well, it was on the hook where I hang my backpack.
Later I showed Heath.
Me: Is this what I think it is?
H: That’s my BOY!
We had a good laugh over it. Ah spring. That time of year when fancy starts to blossom into harmless notes.
My first boyfriend was in first grade. I was in love with a boy in kindergarten but I don’t think he knew I existed. So my first real love was Eric in first grade. I won’t use his last name even though I remember it.
Eric was tall, dark and handsome. My mom tells me we even kissed. I don’t remember that. The funny thing about Eric was that he was popular. In first grade everyone was friends but the politics of the inevitable childhood class system soon developed. The nerds, the popular kids, everyone else.
I was not a nerd necessarily. The popular kids liked me but I never fully transitioned into their group because I was a goody goody. Little Miss Molly Mormon. I was friends with nerds. I was friends with popular kids. I fit in best with the wanna be popular kids. The fact that Eric was my boyfriend and he was aware of this and accepted me as his girlfriend really cracks me up. It was a short lived romance. Nine whole months. I did plan in some detail what our wedding would look like. He never knew that though. I was seven years old. I didn’t want to scare the guy!
By second grade my love matured. I found another boyfriend also named Erik. And to protect his innocence I won’t use his last name either even though I remember it. He was blond. Our love consisted of severe blushing around each other, holding hands at recess, and Christmas gifts. I don’t remember what I gave him but I did write “To my boyfriend Erik Blah Blah.” He gave me hair clips and my face was several shades of red for a good 15 minutes. Young love.
I don’t know if I’m ready for my Gavin to be the hot topic of six and seven year old girl’s giggled conversations. I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond actually. In this day and age everyone walks on eggshells. The slightest thing can be taken the wrong way. What if the school suspends him if they both decide to *gasp* hold hands. I have a whole new opinion on the kissing thing now that I’m a mother!
Maybe for now I do nothing. Gavin is a typical guy. He could not care less that some cute girl made him a heart. He didn’t even notice that another cute girl signed her Valentine to him with “love.” He thinks a picture from a neighbor is just a picture. For all I know that’s all it is too but she is best friends with the Valentine girl. Hmmm . . .
I loved his reaction when I asked him about the heart. “I don’t know.” He’s a guy guy. Impenetrable to women’s sly wiles.
Then I look at Parker. He is hilarious. If you’ve never had the pleasure of a conversation with him you are missing something really special. I don’t know that kindergarten is ready for Parker. And the girl thing? Forget it! That kid is the complete opposite of Gavin. He will have girlfriends in first grade. I can see it now.
I have decided that Gwen is not allowed out of the house. I just hope that with all the advances in medicine and technology we’ve made that Bill Engvall’s wish can come true in time. He says “girls should get boobs at 21. Just happy birthday! Poof. There they are!” I agree.
My kids are 2, 4, and 6 years old. Why do I have to worry about all this craziness now? Because it’s reality. I read about a woman who finally was able to adopt a baby. She picked up her baby girl recently and besides the concern over how to deal with a newborn she is wondering how to keep the girl from dating until she’s 25. That’s life as a parent. And so it begins . . .