Over the weekend, my family and I moved our group of old cows and their calves. These cows are about eleven or twelve years old and this is the last year they will raise a calf for us. We will wean the calves next week and sell the cows shortly afterwards.

We brought these pairs to a field closer to the corrals where we will be working with them next week. It was a perfect day for a ride and the kids could hardly wait to climb on their horses and set out.

Do you see that little boy on the far right? The little cowboy on the old roan horse? The one riding solo, without his mother leading him around? Ack! My almost-four-year-old is bound and determined to give me gray hair. He insists that he can ride like the big kids.

I now spend my time reminding him to hold onto the saddle horn and to ride around the brush and trees. His response is always the same, “I’m okay Mom, ’cause I’m a big boy.”

Yes, indeed, he is growing up and will be off to college Kindergarten before I know it. Maybe it is time I step back and let him be like one of the older kids.

I glanced up to see him with both hands in the air yelling, “Look! No hands!”

Gray hair, here I come.