It's still an experiment in process. But it's soon to be over. F*ck. Did I figure it out? I only have two years left. He's a good boy and he's irritating as hell. Anyone that tells you boys are easier than girls at the teenage years, well, I dunno. Maybe they are right, maybe not. I don't have a girl so I'll never know.
What I do know is there is a lot of drama. A LOT of drama. Even with a boy.
And he has a girlfriend. A real girlfriend. What does that mean anyway? What are they doing? Do I really want to know what they are doing? "Un"fortunately she moved to LA this summer. He's attached. Technology helps ease the heartache I think. Unlimited texting is a good thing, at least for my wallet.
And the mouth. Always had the mouth. Since he was a newborn. He knew what he wanted and don't even. No. I am serious. 100% serious. It's how I describe him time and again. And he is still...to this day... as stubborn as he was a newborn. Of course now he can speak. And back to the mouth. It never stops.
But he's awesome. He may be a pill for the family but I never EVER hear a bad report on him. [Okay that's a lie. I've heard plenty of complaints for cryin' out loud! Boy scout camp. Reports of "impulse control".] Let's focus on reality.
Something recent. For the first time he went away with another family for a ski vacation. An entire week with another family. I wasn't worried. I knew he'd behave himself. What I didn't know was how well he'd been taking those lessons. He was a model guest. From the mom and dad I received nothing but over-the-top complimentary texts and emails, almost daily. Further conversations months after the vacation, the parents specifically recalled with detail his acts of kindness, thoughtfulness and generosity. His ability to be "in tune" (their words not mine) with what other people might need or think. I was speechless. I am proud.
And he can be so frustrating! He is just like me - always has to have the last word - argumentative to a fault. He should be a lawyer. [That's actually a running joke in my family.] He argues. He beats me down with his words. [Should I expect anything less?] He is comfortable with adults, even preferring their company over boys. He is wise beyond his years - and yet not.
I want to believe that he is still a child. I want to believe that he is mature and grown up. Neither is the case. Such is teenage wasteland.
I am churning out random thoughts on this special day. I've never done this for one of my boy's birthdays. I see it all the time - letters from bloggers to their children. They are beautiful to read but I've never done one. But now I have. This isn't a tribute - it's just who he is. And, this is my life with him.