The space of a heartbeat

“Can you believe this shit?” I asked a friend when I got pregnant. “Not only am I pregnant, but I am having a boy.” I never thought I’d ever have a child of my own, but I had always imagined, that if it happened (somewhere southeast of Utopia) that it would be a girl, surely. “What am I going to talk to him about? Cars? Bugs? In my head I ordered a girl, you know.”
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Her, a mother of two boys, shook her head and said: “You’ll figure it out. And you’ll be surprised how wonderful it is to be the mother of a boy. They are fucking FUN, all that energy – it’s energy on steroids, I tell ya … and think of the whole princess status you’ll be getting!”
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I had no idea what she was talking about then. But I do now. I had no idea that I could love somebody this much. But I do. It’s a privilege. All of it.
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And I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t enjoyed the princess status, too. But there’s a new princess in town; My 14-year old boy has a girlfriend – a disrespectfully tall and beautiful girlfriend.
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He still holds my hand, even in public, he still comes and sits next to me to get hugs and kisses, he always has my back, and he protects me like a little lion, but I am feeling a tectonic shift under me, as he claims his independence more and more with each passing day; My opinions are no longer the soundtrack of his life. And it feels like it all happened in the fucking space of a heartbeat.