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On the verge

I drove my oldest, and his buddy to golf camp this morning. They are both entering seventh grade in 11 days. Mine will be 13 in just over a month. While we slugged our way through the morning traffic, I just listened to them, and was struck by the huge corner we are about to turn.

They still have their high-pitched boy voices. How long will that last? I wonder what he will sound like in a few years’ time. I treasure the sound of his voice now. I miss his toddler and little boy voice.  They were giggling as they talked about classmates, things that happened during the last school year, what’s coming for them this year, video games, sisters. How will those conversations change in the coming months?

Ry has his first real zit. Gross, yes, but definitely a step in becoming a teenager. He is disgusted by it, and very self-conscious. He keeps asking how long he will have it. Poor kid. I had to break the news that this is the first of many.

He smells like stinky man-boy when he gets home from golf and soccer practice. Ugh. I have to drive with all the windows down to get the stench out. I’m not fond of big-boy-becoming-teenager smell. We’ve enforced daily showers. What do boys have against being clean? He thought just getting his hair and body wet would do the trick. I sent him back to the shower, twice, to get it right….washed, with shampoo and soap. I have a feeling this may be an ongoing battle – until girls enter the picture.

He was riding in the front passenger seat the other day. I noticed real hair on his lower legs. What the what? When did that happen? He looked at me like I had been in outer space when I asked him about it. But there was hair on my baby’s legs!!!! Real man leg hair!!

He has been a sleep-in maniac all summer long. More than once, I’ve gone in his room at 10:30am and woke him up. Seriously? I don’t remember ever sleeping like that, although I’m sure I did.  He’s really hoping it’s a sign of an oncoming growth spurt. He’s very anxious to be taller than I.  I’m half happy he’s no longer up at 6am all Summer long, playing video games as long as he can before I wander downstairs and shut it all down, setting the timer for him to get his reading done, making him eat breakfast and get out of his pajamas. But I also have stuff to get done most days, and waking a sleeping bear is not my idea of fun, particularly if I haven’t had enough coffee.

We’re on the verge. I feel it. I see signs of the changes coming. I wonder what the next six years are going to bring, what kind of man my biggest baby is going to become? How tall will he be? What will he sound like? Will he be a tough teenager? Will he still hug his mom? How will I discipline a child I have to physically look up to? For now, I’m going to enjoy that boyish voice  that still giggles with his friends. While I’m doing that, I’m also going to mentally and emotionally prepare for what’s just around the corner.

4 thoughts on “On the verge

  1. It’s scary, isn’t it, when your sweet little babies start turning into the hairy, smelly creatures that make strange sounds? My younger son takes after my father in many ways, including a back that already needs waxing. He starts high school in two weeks. I feel like I’m about to ride a rollercoaster with no safety bar!

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