It doesn’t seem like it should be a big milestone, but for some reason Big Man’s fifteenth birthday (in two days) seems kinda huge. Maybe I’m just extra emotional right now, but fifteen just feels like some kind of turning point. I have this inkling that life after Wednesday is going to be somewhat different. It probably will continue on the same, but it just feels like things are going to be different, he will be different.
We had his party yesterday. We were supposed to see the new Maze Runner movie, but the power went out through a big chunk of town about 45 minutes before the movie was supposed to start. We still went to the theater to meet the boys, which closed as we arrived due to the outage. I didn’t have a Plan B, but I came up with one quickly. We gathered up the boys, and headed back to our house, where they spent four hours playing XBox, soccer, 4-square, holding a putting contest, and eating candy, chips, pizza, cake, and ice cream. His words, “It was probably more fun than if we had seen the movie. We laughed, a lot.” I have a good kid. He has great friends.
I listened to them talking about classes, teachers, running, soccer, classmates from elementary and middle who go to other high schools. They’re not little kids anymore. Just a few years ago, the conversation circled around Super Mario characters, and which new Lego set they all wanted.
Our time with him home is limited. High school goes by so quickly. We’ve started talking college tours, and he’s counting down the days until he can get his driver’s license.
The Princess said it last week…there’s something about being fifteen. She called this a big birthday. She will turn fourteen in a few weeks, and in her words, it’s kind of a nothing birthday, as in, there’s nothing big about turning fourteen. You’re not a new teenager, and you’re not close to getting your license. Fifteen though…that, according to her, is a big birthday.
I remember being fifteen. It doesn’t feel like yesterday, but neither does it feel like forever ago either. I was going into my sophomore year of high school. I was ridiculously shy, and even more insecure. I didn’t think I knew it all. I was terrified of the world. I had good friends. I fought with my sister. I missed my brother who was “grown up” with a job, and not living at home. I don’t even remember what I thought my life was going to be like, what plans I had, what dreams I dreamed.
Be patient with this momma this week. I’m kind of an emotional basket-case, and I’m extremely proud of my little miracle baby becoming a handsome, charming, sweet young man.