In the midst of everything, this: I have a 7 year old. / by Christina Rosalie

There are things, a thousand in my mind like the small sparrows in the singing bush at the roadside that I pass, walking down from class to work. There are things converging, turning, passing at odd angles, like fish swimming in an aquarium on different lateral planes. There are things unresolved and just starting out; things igniting from the flint of good work and quick words. An there are moments, one in particular that matters wildly: My son is 7. My first born. Bean. This here boy: long legged, lithe, whip-smart, spoiled, tender-hearted, intuitive, dreamy, mystical, introverted, agile, goofy, kind.

With his birth-day, I became a mother, and since then, everything has been enormously, vastly different. I am more permeable, more affected by the world; braver, truer to myself, more confident, more daring. He is one of my greatest teachers, this boy of mine. Knowing him is one of the coolest things ever.


If you have children, how have you been altered by them? I never tire of hearing those stories.