Middle School Dude

                “Mommy, will you come in and say ‘goodnight’?”  Are you kidding me?  There is no better way to melt the heart of an eleven year old’s mother than that sentence right there (and his birthday is a mere 7 weeks away so that doesn’t hurt either I’m sure).  Ok ok I know it’s not manly and all but I must say that I will support it for as long as I can.  I figure I’ve got a year or maybe two left where everything I say isn’t the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.  As of now I’m hovering around 40%, which isn’t bad. 

                When my main man was born on that snowy night back in 2000, I thought I wasn’t ready to have a kid.  I was right, of course I wasn’t, I was barely ready to have myself; but I did it anyway, with vigor, a smile, some elbow grease, throw in some sacrifice, lots of family and friend’s support and VIOLA! a parent I did become (I truly believe you become a parent, you don’t just get to default into the title).  Now I’d be a bold faced liar if I said I did no wrong on the parenting ship.  Parenting seems to be a constant barrage of bargaining, blackmailing, backtracking, bending, breaking, bonding, and many other ‘b’ words that I can’t think of at this time to add to my alliteration.  (bitching and beating?)  So really it's all in the problem solving.... and sheer will power.

                I felt I wasn’t ready to be a parent when my son was born, but I feel even less ready for the day when he doesn’t need me.  Sitting at the middle school orientation I looked around and thought,

‘This isn’t right.  I’m not supposed to be here.  He’s too young.  I hope he gets his locker open.  Please let him read at least one fucking book this year without the threat of controller hand amputation.  The girls are too grown.  Did some of them get their clothes from Slutz-R-Us?  I didn’t have boobs when I was 11?’ 

Yeah, I’m definitely not prepared for girls + my son.  Screw that.  Trouble.  All of them.  Myself included.  Pretty sure we’re not at that stage yet, thank all of the many gods, I figure that I’ll know when that time approaches by the increase in showering and decrease in everything else (like brain usage).  Last week he was even the proud owner of a 91% on his hunter safety test.  Really?  Guns.  Damn.  (But excited about the 91%.  Apparently the schools need a class called 'Guns and Shit' just to help my son's GPA)  Gone are the days of Spongebob and Sesame Street, now it’s Mythbuster’s and How the Universe Works (which isn’t a bad trade, just a sad one).  Traded legos for Minecraft, 2T for 14Y, our shoes are the same size (seriously) and we share iTunes playlists (so we both like bluegrass, don’t judge). 

               When I look at him I think about what a funny, polite and sweet boy he is, and what a witty, handsome, well mannered young man he’s becoming.  I’m not worried about him growing up, my concern lies with myself.  What am I going to do without him?  Drink scotch?  That’s classy right? 

toddler and cute

super preteen and gross

* (And he does not have a Facebook yet so none of his friends will see this and he won't be sooooooooooo embarrassed.)