Great Big Boy

We've spent the past few days marveling over the story of the young man who caught scurvy by living off beer and chicken wings for two months. We've also read of his siblings who don't know that vacuum cleaners have bags, or what "tsp" stands for. I am proud of you, because even if you started your independent living today you would be better off than those guys. You actively seek out information about daily living, and you never shirk your chores. Never. When you go off to college and your friends regale you with tales of their many lessons, teams and clubs; when they pity you for never having spent all your weekday evenings in a whirlwind of soccer, test prep courses and boy scouts meetings; smile a sad smile as you spoon them a second helping of the only healthy home cooked meal anywhere near campus. Agree that it was terrible while you lounge in clean clothes in a (relatively) clean kitchen. I know things won't be totally spic and span, but I can rest easy knowing it won't be because you don't know how.

Of course, sometimes you end up being too much the big boy. Today you went to the first full day of school in two years. I woke you up at 6, then lay back down. You don't need me to be awake for your shower or breakfast. But I meant to get back up before you left. You needed a hug, someone to ask if you remembered your lunch. I woke up at seven and came running down the steps, but you'd already left. Nervous, you wanted to be on time and you left early.

Hope you remembered your lunch.

Love,
Mom

Puberty

Your major growth spurt still alludes you. You're upset that your 10 yo friends are giving you hand-me-downs. But just today you noticed your own BO, and you've got two- TWO - zits, the most you've ever had at one time. Your Dad and I have both noticed the darkening of your lip hairs.

Dude. It's on its way. Won't be long now. Soon I won't have to urge you to eat. Your voice will change. You'll trip on everything.

It's all part of growing up. It scares me more than it thrills you, I think. It's a reminder that your time with me is limited. Have I done all I can do? Is it enough? Have I let you down?

I know I've made mistakes. I'm human and I can't help it. My hope is that because you're such a smart, sweet, loving, creative, resourceful fellow, you'll do just fine in spite of me.

I love you so much,
Mom

Pictures

I have a flickr account which you rarely bother to peruse. When you do, you invariably start making a ruckus about the pictures of you that are on there. How dare I! Post! Pictures! Of! You!

From your perspective it's a gross invasion of privacy. The whole internet is looking at pictures of you being a goof. Your delicate teenage image is being destroyed.

From my perspective, this is our family picture album. How am I supposed to leave you out? Love and photograph all my children except for you? Nope. Sorry. And as for the whole internet looking: Nope. Sorry. It's our friends and family - the same people who would see these pictures if they were in our house looking at a paper photo album.

Perhaps this is a mistake I'm making. I don't know. I want to respect your budding sense of self and your privacy, but at the same time I think of these pictures as mine. They are images I make and share with people who care. Right this minute you're embarrassed, but one day you're going to look back on these pictures and be so glad I took them. And even if you don't, your future family will.

If this is a mistake, I apologize. I do it with the best intentions.

Love,
Mom

Almost 13

The other day you said you didn't want to be 13. You wanted to keep on being a child. You can't know how much I want that too. I want you to stay my little Boy. I never want you to be too big for my lap.

But you grow. And it is good. You've already started stretching the wings that are going to take you out of my nest; forgive me if I don't make room as quickly as you'd like.

I hope you know how proud I am of you. I know you've got all the things you need to be happy in life. You're kind, hard working, creative and smart. Mostly I worry that you don't know it as well as I do.

I love you so much- I couldn't love anyone more. You are dear and precious and perfect to me just the way you are. I could spend all day trying to communicate just how dear and precious and perfect and loved you are, but it wouldn't be any good because it just can't be said enough.

I love love love you,
Mom