A son will naturally pull away from his mom. I tell him all of the time that he is just doing what he is supposed to be doing by growing up but that doesn’t make it easy for me as his mama.
So, I make him fried eggs every morning.
It’s such a simple thing and yet both of us know, deep down inside, that it’s about more than just eggs.
He could get his own breakfast. He could even whip up his own eggs each morning. He knows how to do that.
But, when I make those two fried eggs for him, it’s a reminder that no matter what else is going on in this challenging season of his life, I’m always there for him. Always aware that there is so much coming at him all of the time and trying to think of how I can make sure that our home is his haven. Always his mom even if he towers over me.
I believe that there is so much security in knowing that there are things you can count on when everything around you feels so new and unchartered. When your hormones seem to shift with the wind and you have one foot in childhood and one foot in adulthood.
And as he gains independence from me, making him eggs every morning reminds me of how much I love this role as caretaker…as nurturer…as mom.
Someday, he won’t come down the stairs in the morning, groggy and bleary eyed. He won’t shuffle into the kitchen and plunk down on the stools and smile at me while I pull out the frying pan.
So, I’ll keep making him two fried eggs every day for as long as he wants them.
Because, while it’s definitely his love language right now, I’m thinking it might be kind of mine too.
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This article originally appeared at At the Picket Fence.
