In the middle

My oldest son, Noah, and I went out for breakfast together yesterday. The other two were with friends, so Noah and I headed to a local haunt called Yanni’s – just the two of us.

Noah starts middle school in a few weeks. He is a great story teller, his language is rich and full of descriptive details. He makes faces that support his humor and I LOVE to be with him. We ordered omelets and toast.

Midway through the meal, we talked about middle school. I have never sent for one of those government sponsored pamphlets on How to Talk to Your Kids about Drugs or anything, I just asked him how he was feeling about a new school, a new grade – about the new.

I remember when I was young, I would have nervousness about new experiences. I didn’t avoid them, but I gave myself little pep talks with every first step. I went to 9 schools in 12 years, so I was often the new kid, and I can still recall the feeling in my stomach on my first day – looking at the entrance doors as if they were a portal to the completely unknown.

Noah is not me. He had one orientation meeting last spring that lasted about 2 hours, but he feels like he knows the layout already. He is eager to meet new people and try out for the basketball team in late fall. He has queried some kids he knows from the higher grades and feels so excited to be a part of what they’ve described. I love it.

As we were finishing up, I looked over the booth at him and said, “You know how much I love you, right? I have all the faith in the world in you, Noah. Always remember who you are and Whose you are, because you are a great kid and you are loved no matter what.”

He made a goofy face, rolled his eyes, and said, “Who doesn’t love Noah?” I let him be a strange and awkward 12 year old boy whose mother had just gone over the line in a diner. We then talked about the MLB scores from the night before.

Our plates clean, I paid the waitress and we got up to leave. An elderly couple was leaving too, and Noah ran ahead to hold the door for them. Then, as we walked silently to the car, he grabbed my neck and hugged me in a headlock all the way.