Hoo

Hooman got his nickname because his older brother was Zachadoo and I needed a rhyming, fun name to call him that matched.  So, he became Harryhoo early on in life.  The Hoo part of it has just kind of stuck and, thankfully, so far, he isn't complaining.

I fully expect, any day now, I'll call "Hoo!" to get his attention when he is with his friends and I'll be accused of being the "most embarrassing Mother in the entire Universe and in Universes we haven't discovered yet".  Because male hormones lead to wicked bad logic, crying jags that could win Academy and/or comedy awards, and butt acne.

But, I digress.

Actually, this post was supposed to be about how amazing Hoo actually is.  And, let me tell you that brother is crazy cool.

He has managed to make it an entire summer doing the Justin Bieber hair swish and not contract whiplash.

He earned third place at the national Taekwondo tournament and finished his first kid's triathlon, too.

Child practically has a six-pack abdomen.  And, after much practice, he mastered this a week ago..and I had to pony up $10 because he met the challenge.

He's funny.  Kids got timing.  And when I try to pass sarcasm across the table to Mike, often Hoo will start cracking up before Mike does.  He just gets it.  And me and my wicked, warped sense of sarcasm and humor.

He is also contemplative.  When we explained that a relative was likely going to die of cancer in the coming days, he began to truly think about Grandma Joyce and what she went through.  And how much he missed her.  And what Heaven was like.  And wonder if it was going to hurt to die.

And, before yesterday, it was interesting that he was going into fifth grade but, frankly, we'd "been there, done that" with Nickels just two years prior and it wasn't novel.  Until we entered the room.

I had forgotten that last year's desks had little cubbies underneath the desk top for storing stuff.  This definitely relegated them to "child" status.  This year, the desks are like those you'd find in a college classroom with just a small shelf under the chair.

The boys and girls he attended school with last year looked young.  Their voices were young,  They weren't all that tall.  Those same kids went through some crazy, hormone-driven growth spurt this summer.  They still have a gawky, semi-socially-shy attitude, but some of them can practically look me in the eye.  Though, of course, they have a hard time with eye contact because every tween thinks they will turn to stone if that occurs.

I hadn't put two-and-two together and figured out that Hoo was moving across campus to the fifth through seventh grade pod of classrooms.  He is further away from the office, closer to the football field, and swimming in the sea of almost being at the top of the grammar school.  Walking up the long incline to his classroom, I realized I am on the verge of being the Mom to TWO teenagers.  It just wasn't that long ago I considered it strange that I was about to have two in school.

Time is flying at lightning speed.  I don't have time to regret what has passed, only time to remember to make now special.  Because pausing to mourn things I wish I had done is a waste;  it is a closed chapter.  There is no time like the present to look ahead.

And, for Hoo?  I see a future that is bright.  He has expressed the desire to be a writer, which makes my heart go pitter-patter.  He is building a cadre of friends that is deep and wide.  He is growing toward manhood in a way that it promising and exciting.

I will always adore you, Hooman.  From our rocky start when you were a baby with an undiagnosed milk allergy to a learner who learned differently to a super athlete and friend, you have been the roller coaster ride that made me giggle and throw my hands up and yell "AGAIN!"  You are a big part of why Mom and Dad knew it was a good idea to try for another sibling.  Thanks for being your authentic you. 

You truly are my sunshine.  Even when life was the most grey with you, I was always delighted to be your Mommy.  I look forward to the day you have your own children and can understand how much I really, really do love you.