thirteen

Officially a teenager, a little scary for us, exciting for him.  He has an air of confidence around him that shines through the awkward stage he’ll soon leave behind right along with being a little boy.  He’s not little, he’s as tall as I am and will pass me up any day.  I see him figuring out the world, embracing it, getting angry at it and all of it’s injustices and ultimately finding patience for it all because just when he it figures something out, it changes.  His opinions about the world around us and the people in it, they are forming right before us and it’s a joy, and a little painful, to watch.  Everything from politics to science to sports to going green to friendships to girls.  Some days I look at him and see the little boy he was not so long ago but more often I see the man he’ll be before we know it.  I’m so proud of him.  There are days I just want to tell the world….”look what we did, isn’t he the best?!!!”

Here is a little walk down memory lane:  His birth story, told 10 years later | 10 | 11 | 12

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to have a panic attack about the fact that I am the mother of a teenager.