Stroking his ‘Stache and Girls

My angel, the little love of my life, is growing facial hair. Oh, it’s just above his upper lip, but he sits to talk with me, mustering all the wisdom an 11 year old can, and strokes his mustache. Not a full mustache, just one that is more like light brown peach fuzz. However, it’s prominent enough the girls at school have started noticing.

BACK OFF MY BOY! is what I want to  yell.

Who are these little budding Aphrodite’s with their skinny jeans, imperfectly lined eyes and budding breasts? How dare they tell my son his ‘stache is cool and they think it makes him look mature.

Would they say that if they knew he still had cuddle time with Mom?

Probably. But he would die of mortification.

But, fact of the  matter is, I want to lock him up in his room and not let him until he’s, oh let’s say, 80. It makes me want to put on my reddest lipstick and kiss him on the cheek before he rolls out the door to hop in the carpool. Let’s not even discuss that I’ve been tempted to not stay on top of him regarding hygiene and all things smelly. But, no one wants to be the smelly kid at school, so I’ve not sunk that low.

Yet, when I look at him, I still see that baby I held to my breast. The gift given to me and my husband. We sneak into his room at night sometimes, wrap our arms around each other and marvel at the preciousness. He’s our son. No one could have picked a better child for us. He looks like his Dad, but has my nose and a little blonde streak in his hair from me.

And one of these days, I’m not going to be the woman he goes to for everything. Yeah, it bugs me. Show me a mom it doesn’t bother and I’ll show you one that’s telling a story. We all know what happens when those stories are told.

It’s just the changes are so much more rapid now that puberty has kicked in. Where they used to be smaller and took longer, now it seems like he’s growing an inch every day and there is new body hair popping up I’ve not noticed before. He’s also spending more time in his room, less time away from me.

Pretty hard stuff to swallow when this is the boy that declared his never ending love for you at three and told everyone he was going to marry Mommy when he grew up.

So, little girls, I know you really like my boy; however, can you give this old woman a chance to find acceptance over how rapidly he’s changing before you try to steal his heart away? If you do that, I’ll teach you the proper way to apply eyeliner.

Thanks.