9 years prior: When he asks why Betsy won't come out of the toilet paper tube for the 2nd day in a row, tell the truth. Dump your one good pair of pumps out of their protective box and hold your first backyard family funeral. Realize Fido is getting up in years. Buy a puppy. Purchase dozens of plastic boxes with lids to protect extensive, puppy-attracting Lego collection.
8 years prior: Fly by the seat of your pants when Fido dies. Have your husband come home early from work. Say goodbye to Fido and, for the first time, cry together as a family. Tell the quasi-truth — Fido will return in a cool ceramic jar after a trip to the Doggie Shrinking Machine.
7 Years Prior: Kiss the cut on your son's cheek and thank the boys who rescued him from the class bully at the annual school sockhop. Confront school principal over classroom bully who's chosen your future engineer, brainiac son as his main target. Let son see your anger and disappointment at principal's lack of action on his behalf. Teach son the concepts of self-preservation, patience and justice. Do not refrain from showing, only slightly restrained, expression of glee, when, 6 months later, class bully is expelled and sent to military boarding school.
6 Years Prior: Announce daddy has a new job three states away. Leave the only house and friends he's ever known, plus daily visits with Grandpa, to start all over midway through the school year. After driving him to school for 8 years, stand your son on his new street corner with other public school kids, who, judging by the look of the other Bus Stop Mommies, you assume and pray are not future ax murderers and who might also have an entire room in their house devoted to Legos.
5 Years Prior: Learn how to speak to a Middle School Boy. Celebrate, then later curse the day he announced he likes girls. Continue to support his Lego Habit.
4 Years Prior: Spend 4 hours in tears studying high school course offerings and one hour on phone with gracious 8th grade teacher who walks you through this new, overwhelming world.
3 Years Prior: Survive obtaining his Learner's Permit. Survive him driving you through empty parking lots and intersections. Smile when he announces he's going over to Nick's "to play Legos."
2 Years Prior: Weep when your son fails his driver's license road test. Weep when he passes. Convert dining room into practice grounds for school engineering club. Learn to fix dinner while motorized Lego robots chase the dog through the kitchen. Talk about colleges. Nag son to study for SAT and ACT. Hand him Visa card for test fees.
1 Year Prior: Visit colleges. Buy bigger mailbox to handle influx of recruitment materials. Spend four days in tears helping son fill out applications. Hand him Visa card for application fees. Celebrate his acceptance to his favorite university. Smile when he declares his major in Biomedical Engineering.
Wonder if he will take Legos to campus…
