When I was a young mother I would hear of people with teen-aged children and wonder what that would be like. The thing is, I was married so young, that honestly my teen years were not very far behind me (two years and twenty days to be precise). In addition to that, I had siblings who remained in their teen years for nearly a decade into my marriage (I think my youngest brother was 11 when I got married). So, while my own children were mere tots, I had lots of encounters with teen-agers. They weren't some foreign species.
What is my 15-year old son?
Well, growing. And growing means eating, and sleeping.
Birthday boys are still super sweet, still happy to get a DQ cake and blow out the candles.
He's funny. He's sassy--definitely sassy!;)
I'm not comfortable with how thick his shoulders are growing or how he's not-quite-yet-taller than me.
He's gathering his courage for high school. He's determined and hard working. He's a boy who is growing into a man. And, while I have always found teens fun, interesting, exciting, now that I find myself in the position of MOTHER to several teens, I think that I am surprised to find myself entirely sentimental. I savor these days and years, because I know they will soon launch. This time is precious and I have my work to do as a mother. To mother them, as young adults, into greater independence, confidence, competence. Academically, socially, and of course spiritually.
It all occurs to me. That's what runs through my thoughts as we light candles and eat ice cream cake. My heart bursts with love and gratitude for this child. I gather my strength, and together we go out into "fifteen"!
Happy birthday Aragorn!!
