My first born is 16 today.
Its sort or surreal because I don't feel old enough, experienced enough, or mature enough to have a 16 year old anything, let alone a 16 year old child.
He was born when I was 19... young... stupid, but fiercely protective of the little person that came into the world.
He slept through the night from the day he was born. He was 3 when his father and I divorced. He was 8 when J, the man who raised him, passed on. He was the first to give Mac Daddy a go when he started hanging around a lot. They had a rocky relationship at first but it has grown into something stronger than I ever could have hoped.
I remember a conversation I had with another mother years ago, a mother with grown children. I was talking to her about my worries as the oldest was heading for teenage years and the road ahead was scary at best. She told me that teenagers are supposed to be horrible and that they remove themselves as much as possible and that your relationship with them will change. She said its normal for teenagers to hate their lives and their parents and that its only temporary... that they come back as adults and make it all okay.
It was in that moment that I decided I wanted to skip the parent-hating part. I didn't want to let them go in the hopes that they'd come back when they were grown. I'm figuring that woman gave me the worst advice ever.
But that advice did light a fire under my butt... one that has kept me talking and listening and nurturing even as he approached 6 foot tall and size 13 shoes.
We've had tough days and tough weeks even but he still hugs me everyday, he still calls me Mama, and so far the teenage stuff hasn't been too bad. Its interesting watching him turn into an adult... seeing small glimpses of who he'll become.
He plays paintball, is on the Junior Bowling League, does his own laundry, helps me in the barn on my bad days, and when I ask him how he feels about his childhood he always says "At least I will never be able to say it was boring".
He's been enrolled in a charter school for 2 years now because I felt I couldn't keep up with him homeschool-wise. He's picked up a lot of computer stuff from Mac Daddy and has run far enough ahead that I can't even keep up with conversations between the 2 of them. He's taking a Flash animation course, C++ programming, and learning Unity on his own all on top of his regular 10th grade work load.
All in all I guess its not so bad, having teenagers. Trying at ties, but not too bad. But I'm still no where near ready to accept the fact that in a few more years he'll be old enough to head out without me.
Happy birthday, son.
just kidding Jake, Happy Birthday, poopa
Posted by: steve martin | March 18, 2009 at 06:50 PM
the roads will not be safe again,poppa
Posted by: steve martin | March 18, 2009 at 06:48 PM
One of my favorite sayings..............
Grandchildren are your reward for not killing your teenagers.
Posted by: Mom | March 17, 2009 at 02:19 PM
My youngest was 16 the day after your son. I can vouch for the wisdom of your decision to not accept that they will be horrible. My 16 year old has three older siblings, now adults, who are some of my favourite people to hang with. They are wise, funny, considerate and altogether wonderful people who thank me for raising them as I did. Total and complete payback.
Hang in there, it's definitely worth it.
Posted by: paddy | March 14, 2009 at 10:03 AM
I have two of these beasts (said with a very intense tenderness)...they still call me mama too and hold my hand in the car when no one else is looking. It is the best.
Posted by: Debbie | March 11, 2009 at 11:09 PM
And what a handsome young man he's turning into.
My parents always used to joke that none of us kids would ever qualify for Adult Children of Boring Parents. It is something to be grateful for!
Posted by: elizabeth m | March 11, 2009 at 05:27 PM
Well done, M-G, for such a wonderful son! My oldest child was born when I was 19 as well, so I identify so much!
And yes, you did well in ignoring your friend's advice, re: teenage children and 'parent-hating'. There was a situation in my life with my kids, when I almost sent them all to boarding school (to get away from their mad-dad); but I couldn't cope with not seeing them. So I moved 200 miles to get away from him, and thankfully, we moved on!
Posted by: clarabelle | March 11, 2009 at 04:47 PM
I can't believe he is 16. I can remember when he was born. I can also remember you bring him to Central Penn for my college class on toddlers.
Tell him that I said Happy Birthday!
Steph Page
Posted by: Steph | March 11, 2009 at 12:56 PM