It's no secret around here.
Me and 14 are like oil and water.
For girls, it is more like 13 but let's round up for goodness sake.
'Cause when they are 13, they are going on 23 anyway.
The girls, that is.
I cannot find a "13" picture of Lindsey. I think that was
before the digital age and I'm not in the mood to look through 30,000 photos. Thirteen for her was boys, and giggles, and flirting. Oh my, we laugh about it now. She always told me sooner or later about most things because her conscience got the better of her. We survived that year and moved on beautifully.
Now boys are a difference ball of wax altogether. My understanding was limited mostly because I'm a girl and they aren't.
Jerrod spent "14" seemingly angry and and pensive. His growing pains and oncoming manhood were nothing I could relate to.
He stretched me big time and when it was over, a really good kid that was there all along came back, and asked if we could be friends. We weathered the storms and found the rainbow.
You can imagine my fear and trepidation I felt on round number three. Lord, help me.
Erik discovered his giftings.
Found and finessed his addictions.
He kept his smile while he pushed every one of my buttons and stretched our family with his growing pains. Big time.
And emerged an excellent capable young man. A sigh of relief was an understatement when fifteen arrived. The end of the tunnel is within reach and we can only go up from here.
Now the fourth go-round has begun.
You know how there is a certain age where they start to trail behind at Wally-world?
Just enough so you start to wonder if they don't want to be seen with you?
Well, that happened with Erika the other day.
Wanna know what I said?
It was a douzy.
I said, "Hey, at least you can pretend to not know me and everyone will believe you because we don't look alike."
Yep.
I'm definitely NOT a proud adoptive mother.
While it was true, it wasn't necessary, nor kind.
It's a darn good thing I have a lot more practicing on the horizon.
Maybe I'll conquer "14" by the time the tenth one makes it through.
Just maybe.
Ohhhh! I've been there! Survived a couple of teeny-boppers myself. I have three more to go ... unless we adopt again. Ha! Maybe we'll catch up to you someday. Then we can compare the grey hairs and douzy comments we've made through. :)
ReplyDeleteFriend, I am thankful for your honesty. And also thankful for the mercies the Lord showers upon us each and every morning. They are truly abundant. I am a few years away from teenage-dom, but oh my, they freak me out.
ReplyDeleteDude. Duuuuuddddeeee. Dude. Thank you for this. Thank you, thank you, thank you for this. We are at 14 now with one. The first? Piece of cake, he just turned into an airhead for about 6 months and then we moved on with our lives. But this one? Ummmm, yeah. This one is kicking my butt. I'm not sure at what point I became pretty much invisible and his dad became a rock star but it happened and I'm hangin on for the day when I get my sweet boy back. As for your comment to her....don't be too hard on yourself. All of your love WAY out weighs our little mommy dearest moments we all have. Hugs!
ReplyDeleteSo hard......UGH!!! We have our 12 right now....my first go around....and it feels soo hard sometimes!!!!! :( Maybe you can share your success secrets with us all and we can conquer it??? Oh man...here's to praying that it would be great!!!
ReplyDeleteYikes! This post scared me a little. My oldest is 9, and I'm already a little fearful about 10--don't know what to think about 14. :)
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