My first-born son is now a taller-than-me sixteen year old. Sixteen YEARS! How can I be that old? I remember sixteen…vividly! Now he knows everything and I am stupid…I remember that! He gives me “the look”…remember that too. I was good at that. He is too, but he gets in a lot more trouble for it than I did. Honestly, I think we both just have that “look” as a blank expression on our faces. Mine comes from being so nearsighted it gives me a headache to even try to see things without contacts/glasses. He also inherited my blind-as-a bat-ness and refuses to wear his glasses at school. Instead of squinting all the time you kind of develop a bland face that doesn’t see anything. Some people take it as a PO’d look, but it’s soooo not.
When he was a baby I remember looking at him and seeing myself, literally. I would stare at him and feel like I was looking at myself. Is that just a first-time mom thing? The expressions he would make – me. His crinkly (is that a word?) forehead – me. His eyes – me. My mom always said, as a baby, that I would smile so much sometimes that she was afraid people would think something wrong with me. Her exact quote was “that I was goofy”. This kid would grin and giggle so much, let’s just say I knew exactly what she meant! But then, N could be so shy in public places. I could relate to that too. On the other hand, when the temper came out, watch out! Just like momma.
He is now into basketball and Cross-county….that certainly does not come from me! (flashback… Jr. High/High school P.E. class….co-ed basketball games….running the mile…hearing either of those just ruined my day.) He, however, excels at both. I like to think maybe my hatred of them turned into some sort of super serum in the womb. He is also smart but his grades don’t show it (just like momma). He is a sophomore in high school this year and we have been trying to tell him that from here on out, grades are very important. It’s the difference between working a shit job or being the boss of everybody working the shit jobs. He doesn’t really care at this point, what 16-year-old does? His answer – he will be a writer. I wondered aloud to him one night about how he could be writer, when he is an English class-hater and writing assignments practically blow him away. His answer – he will be writing about stuff he wants and that will be soooo much easier. (Insert rolling eyes here) Oh, okay. As long as you’ve got it figured out beforehand. There is also the ever popular (and so darn realistic) professional sports athelete avenue to go down. Sigh I just nod and give an uh huh, maybe, as my insides cringe. Uncertainty and unrealistic expectations…to be sixteen again! He really is a good boy at heart, but momma worries anyway.
Now, hasn’t this just been what every teenager wants – your mother telling about all your business while telling the world that you’re just like her. Nevertheless, he has read this post and given it (a reluctant) “thumbs up”…for the most part.