My children, who are rapidly becoming not-children,
Are both growing in ways I could never imagine,
But traveling paths that I predicted from the moment I was
Convinced that I would have kids of my own.
They are products of their parents, which is a blessing and a curse.
They are funny and kind, but insular and too smart for the world,
School is a struggle, but gaming is not,
and god-forbid if you tell them they can’t have a muffin.
When their laughter fills the house,
My heart fills up faster,
And I savor every moment that they say “Yes daddy, I’d like to,”
When I ask them to do whatever I think might grab their interest.
Sometimes our dance parties last long enough,
To earn side-eyed glances from their mother,
But the giggles are worth it and their goofy antics and sarcasm show that my DNA runs deep–
But hopefully not so deep to include the broken parts.
I’ll treasure these moments while I have them,
Because kids are like dandelions and grow overnight,
And in the blink of an eye, they will be swept up by the wind,
Into the world that they hide from in their rooms with the lights off.
Sometimes I get lost in my head worrying that they aren’t prepared to leave home,
When they don’t know what a butter knife is or understand how to hold a broom,
But those thoughts bleed away when I sit on their beds, and annoyingly ask them about things,
Just to hear their thoughts and opinions.
And I am reminded that my children are rapidly becoming not-children.