I had a great visit at the bus stop this morning with a very wise friend who has children ranging in ages from 5 – 15. Yes, that’s a baby in kindergarten and a teen in high school. Plus she has two more in between. Obviously, in my eyes she would fall into the “expert” category of moms. I’ll be leaning on her a lot.
My oldest is now a teenager. And wow. When the “teenager” moves in, he moves in all. the. way. Without getting into too much detail, my kid has been taken over by an alien. The teenager alien. It’s turning him from my sweet and sensitive little man to a mean green monster!** Coincidentally, 3 years ago in a school art class he was required to draw a split face self-portrait. He drew himself as a green alien type monster. I guess he saw it coming before I did. Fore shadowing. Maybe I should have him do an updated version of the drawing, where he shows his current ratio of teenage-alien-monster to sweet precious little Owl (If you see me refer to the “Owl” on the blog, I’m referring to the oldest – the boy – of my 3 little birds). It would surely be at least 90% green. He’s almost fully become a teenage alien now.
This fact has brought me some dread and some strife in the last few weeks. However today, my dear friend at the bus stop (my neighborhood mommy-expert) said something to me that made this whole teenager mess a big giant happy PLUS in my goals as M.O.M.*** — She said something along the lines of (please forgive if I put my own twist on the words), “I think God gave us these awful teenager years, so that it’s easier for us to let them go when they turn 18.”
So, the worse the teenage years, the happier I’ll be when they go?
I may just be able to make my wonderful-and-pretty-incredible husband eat his “you’re going to be pitiful when they leave” words, after all. I will NOT be pitiful and sad when they fly the coop. Based on the only example I have (my own teenage years), I’ll be dancing and jumping for Joy!
*Someone please bookmark this post and re-direct me to it in 5 years.
** I hate green monsters. Like the Incredible Hulk. Irrational childhood fear carried over into adulthood.
*** Mind Over Motherhood = there’s going to be a “ME” at the end of this “motherhood” that doesn’t struggle to find her identity without the precious little aliens!