Now we're getting to the good stuff!
Saturday, 9:55 a.m.
Six mid-pubescent Freshmen show up at the house in various stages of undress trying to create togas. They have just been kayaking and are due to serve a meal for some pre-prom activity for someone at 10:00. They are going to be late.
"Do you need pins?"
"No, I don't need any pins."
I continue to observe as they continue to improvise, never having done this before. Fast forward. I see them fumbling with corsages at their own junior proms. Struggling with a new language on their missions. Looking for the right words to tell their future wives of their undying love...
"Mom, I do need pins."
Yeah, I knew you would. I was just waiting for you to ask.
I wish I would've taken a picture of them before they tumble out of the van...dragging togas and articles of clothing as they run up to the front door of someone I don't even know. But these are good kids. I love these kids. Some of them who are not my own call me "Mom" too. I love that. I look forward to watching what happens over the next few years, knowing that it will not be without heartache, but looking forward nonetheless.
Monday, 4:30 a.m.
I have been awake looking at the clock every 15 minutes not wanting to sleep through the alarm. At about 4:45 three tall tenors arrive to kidnap my oldest son for "initiation." "Welcome to PHS Singers!" (Chamber Singers) they tell him--the one who hates getting out of bed in the morning. He jumps up and runs out the door--clad in only a T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops. I don't know any of these kids either. But I do know that every time I hear them sing, tears run down my cheeks. These are good kids. And I realize that my kid who has been waiting for almost half of his high school experience to find somewhere to fit in has finally found his niche. And what a rich niche. I think I am happier than if he would've made captain of the football team.
He dashes back in at 7:00. I stand at the stairs with my arms open wide.
"Aw Mom, do I have to?"
"You bet you do. Congratulations!"
I give him the hug, knowing at some point--in just a couple of years--he might be locked away in a grungy bathroom in a grungy apartment in some faraway place--fighting back the tears that want to flow over the latest really hard thing he will have to deal with on his mission--wishing he could have that hug again.
I hope the imprint of a thousand hugs over the years--before he decided he was too big--will remain.
So I keep trying to sneak in a few while I can.
It's something unpredictable
but in the end there's right
I hope they have the times of their lives...
(this in my best Green Day voice)
Six mid-pubescent Freshmen show up at the house in various stages of undress trying to create togas. They have just been kayaking and are due to serve a meal for some pre-prom activity for someone at 10:00. They are going to be late.
"Do you need pins?"
"No, I don't need any pins."
I continue to observe as they continue to improvise, never having done this before. Fast forward. I see them fumbling with corsages at their own junior proms. Struggling with a new language on their missions. Looking for the right words to tell their future wives of their undying love...
"Mom, I do need pins."
Yeah, I knew you would. I was just waiting for you to ask.
I wish I would've taken a picture of them before they tumble out of the van...dragging togas and articles of clothing as they run up to the front door of someone I don't even know. But these are good kids. I love these kids. Some of them who are not my own call me "Mom" too. I love that. I look forward to watching what happens over the next few years, knowing that it will not be without heartache, but looking forward nonetheless.
Monday, 4:30 a.m.
I have been awake looking at the clock every 15 minutes not wanting to sleep through the alarm. At about 4:45 three tall tenors arrive to kidnap my oldest son for "initiation." "Welcome to PHS Singers!" (Chamber Singers) they tell him--the one who hates getting out of bed in the morning. He jumps up and runs out the door--clad in only a T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops. I don't know any of these kids either. But I do know that every time I hear them sing, tears run down my cheeks. These are good kids. And I realize that my kid who has been waiting for almost half of his high school experience to find somewhere to fit in has finally found his niche. And what a rich niche. I think I am happier than if he would've made captain of the football team.
He dashes back in at 7:00. I stand at the stairs with my arms open wide.
"Aw Mom, do I have to?"
"You bet you do. Congratulations!"
I give him the hug, knowing at some point--in just a couple of years--he might be locked away in a grungy bathroom in a grungy apartment in some faraway place--fighting back the tears that want to flow over the latest really hard thing he will have to deal with on his mission--wishing he could have that hug again.
I hope the imprint of a thousand hugs over the years--before he decided he was too big--will remain.
So I keep trying to sneak in a few while I can.
It's something unpredictable
but in the end there's right
I hope they have the times of their lives...
(this in my best Green Day voice)
Comments
I keep hoping that when my kids reach that twilight zone age, that I am able to take a lot of what they do with a grain of salt and realize that they aren't Giddianhi-like.
The joys and the agonies of teens. I can hardly wait for this stage to be over and yet I know how much I'm going to miss it!
When ya want your book?
In any case, I love this part of parenting. Your kids are starting to find out who they are. They are making plans for their future. They think they can do anything. And maybe they can. You'd like to warn them because you know that it's not all a bed of roses, but something holds you back because you realize that you don't want to suppress their spirits.
Anne--I always love it when you visit my blog.
Geo--I found the red notebook! I'll be in touch.
Lo--are you kidding me? You and Guy are both smart and cool. Your kids and their friends will love you forever.
Zack made Wind Ensemble on clarinet and Jazz Band on the bari sax. I am so stoked. I can't contain how I feel about jazz, so though I am still a little depressed over my first summer not spent entirely at the ball park, I am also really excited about the upcoming year of a capella choir and some great jazz.
I have a little brother who's finishing his Junior year at PHS right now. I wonder if he knows your son . . . ;)