Saturday, January 23, 2010
There is more of them.
Today, for a few short moments, I went to watch my son play in a Volleyball Tournament and discovered 4 gyms full of young teen boys who look and smell the same as him. I was in awe and realized that perhaps I need to start a support group for parents who have young teen sons. I could charge money to attend my support group and become rich.
I am not sure when things changed but all of a sudden my cute cuddly boy started to gross me out. I think God allows this to happen in such a natural way between Mom's and their boys. So gradual that one day all of a sudden your boy is in the process of becoming a young man. He looks you in the eye or you look up at him and deep down you know it is time to let him go. And it seems right. And your proud. And you wonder if you can ever get him fit enough to get a wife.
I rant endlessly at the boy , "You need a haircut ....... Quit eating all the cereal ...... Pick up your socks ...... Put your dishes away .....If you leave the milk out more time I am going to dump it on your head ....... Have a shower, you stink ..... Oh and make sure you use your deodarant .....I'm not paying that much money for a pair of shoes when your feet are still growing ...... Shoving things in the closet and under your bed is not cleaning your room ...... What do you mean a kids meal is not enough anymore, you can't eat 2 burgers, there is just no way .......... No, I don't think noises coming out of your body are funny.... Your sports equipment needs to find another home besides my hallway ....... Turn off the lights .... Clean out your lunchpail .........Pick up your wet towels ...... and finally Do not bug your sister!
Someday when he flies the coop I will long for the days of having a young teen son who charms me with his slightly crooked smile and says "You are the best! I love you Mom." I will forget about the messes and the lack of a frontal lobe. I will look back with rose colored glasses and remember how quickly those years passed.
So the next time I go to rant and I expect it will be soon as I just spotted another pair of socks by the garage door as I am typing. Now how hard it is to put your socks in the laundry basket? Really, Mark (yep he has now ticked me off so his identity is no longer protected) Oh yes, like I was saying, I will rant with a smile.
I am not sure when things changed but all of a sudden my cute cuddly boy started to gross me out. I think God allows this to happen in such a natural way between Mom's and their boys. So gradual that one day all of a sudden your boy is in the process of becoming a young man. He looks you in the eye or you look up at him and deep down you know it is time to let him go. And it seems right. And your proud. And you wonder if you can ever get him fit enough to get a wife.
I rant endlessly at the boy , "You need a haircut ....... Quit eating all the cereal ...... Pick up your socks ...... Put your dishes away .....If you leave the milk out more time I am going to dump it on your head ....... Have a shower, you stink ..... Oh and make sure you use your deodarant .....I'm not paying that much money for a pair of shoes when your feet are still growing ...... Shoving things in the closet and under your bed is not cleaning your room ...... What do you mean a kids meal is not enough anymore, you can't eat 2 burgers, there is just no way .......... No, I don't think noises coming out of your body are funny.... Your sports equipment needs to find another home besides my hallway ....... Turn off the lights .... Clean out your lunchpail .........Pick up your wet towels ...... and finally Do not bug your sister!
Someday when he flies the coop I will long for the days of having a young teen son who charms me with his slightly crooked smile and says "You are the best! I love you Mom." I will forget about the messes and the lack of a frontal lobe. I will look back with rose colored glasses and remember how quickly those years passed.
So the next time I go to rant and I expect it will be soon as I just spotted another pair of socks by the garage door as I am typing. Now how hard it is to put your socks in the laundry basket? Really, Mark (yep he has now ticked me off so his identity is no longer protected) Oh yes, like I was saying, I will rant with a smile.
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