I am currently in a foreign country, having a glass of wine watching my son across the table. The waiter asked him whether he wanted a glass of wine as well. I chuckled and noted that he had just turned 15. The waiter shrugged and asked again. My son said no thanks. I looked at my son closely. Indeed, he could pass for 18. Everyone thinks he is older than 15.

As for myself, I still picture him as my two year old precocious son. I’m a little sad. I’m a little proud. I’m realizing he’s slowly becoming more embedded in the fabric of the world. My arms are no longer big enough to shield him from the challenges our current environment poses.

Happy birthday to my baby. Yes, my baby. He will always be my baby, who I wish to protect while helping him grow. It’s a balancing act.