Throwback Year 13

I started these posts to enjoy some happy memories of life as a full-time mama as I adjusted to life as the mama of a college boy.  Next week at this time, that boy will be home for Thanksgiving.  I’m looking forward to having him back in my house and under my care, convinced as I am that he needs a little spoiling and feeding.  

JT was a handful at age 13, alternately charming and sometimes frustrating as he made his way toward independence. That year, he enjoyed a birthday feast of the most unhealthy sort.

I quit fighting the battle over the need to wear long pants and a jacket, enduring the judgmental looks of other parents as needed.

I laughed where laughter was an option.

It was the last summer we went camping at Cape Cod, where the usual adventures abounded.

While we were camping that summer, I had a vision of what this boy would look like when he grew into a man.

This picture sits in my office, in a place where I spend my days with 13 year olds who, like 13 year olds everywhere, are amusing and infuriating in equal measure. It’s a reminder that 13 is on the cusp of big changes; the sort that bring an end to childhood; the kind that make patience, love, and laughter the best allies of parents everywhere.