Independence Day

It must be in the air. Or rather has been for a few weeks. Dawson had been gaining independence at mach levels. First making his own cereal. I mean everything from climbing up, getting his own bowl, etc. Even pouring his own milk. Today, would you believe he actually washed his own dishes from lunch and dinner (he washed like a 4 year old, none the less, he washed) We spent time cleaning his room before bed, playing a game, and finally giving him a leg rub. He's been complaining of leg cramps - probably growing pains along with mine of his growing independence. My frustration all weekend was his desire to cross streets without holding my hand. Carrying a drink with already full hands. This is where it all starts. The age of knowing everything.

It's kind of ironic how we evolve through this role reversal. Confession. While walking to fireworks last night and my hands full (carrying a chair, two blankets and my newly purchased drink), I tripped on the sidewalk and everything went flying. I fell doing no damage - other than my ego. Scared Dawson to death. He picked up the stuff off the ground, picked me up (well tried), even kissed my hand better. I'm sorta giggling out of embarrassment and he's telling me it is not funny! Later we giggled about it some more and he insisted to BE CAREFUL!

This all comes after he tripped while throwing a football in a game booth. He drew blood. I just scrapped my hand. A bunch of misfits. But we have each other. Despite his desire for independence and my desire to be needed, we'll both trip and stumble, giggle about it and tell on each other. But in the end, we would have been there for one another to not only help each other, but to tattle.