So as the first time parent of a teenager,
I am trying to figure out whether technology is partly to blame for the changes in my son, or if this just part of the self-definition of a 13 year old male (with a favorite gray birthday jacket).
Either way, my cell phone and camera are littered with a vast collection of Zach's self-portraits. My evenings are littered with various reports of his amazing athletic prowess. And my walls and door frames are covered with long finger prints --proof of his increasing height, and incorrigible desire to jump, hit, kick, and knock at things (I am beginning to have new insight into the motivation behind the weight set, the gravity boots, and the punching bag in the basement for my three brothers).
I feel awful about this confession: but last night, after Zach finally stopped trying to wrestle with his Dad; after he finished jamming out to his iPod in the hallway (way past bedtime); after he quit laughing at his silly parents (who were not trying to be funny)---
I said, with a perfected roll of my eyes, "He is driving me BANANAS!" (I know...I've got to reach a Separate Peace about this --I have many years to go (and two more boys...)
Good thing he's a handsome monkey.
Today I'm going to check the classifieds for punching bags and Karate classes.
3 comments:
Let me know if you find a punching bag--Matt still mourns his (sold at a garage sale, I think) and I've looked for one off and on throughout the years. I'm not sure teenage girls are going to be any easier...
Oh well, if I looked as handsome at his age, I would have saved more of my mom's pictures of me... look at the bright side, you aren't looking at self-portraits of a red-headed freckle-faced kid! Thank you dear Steffie for handing down those handsome genes! While he clearly possesses my wit and magnetic charm, he has your photogenic-ness!
His teen-age side is so nicely tempered with gentle sincerity. He's pretty lovable.
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