My teenager did two things on Sunday that guaranteed his life for the next month at least. I say that because the teen years are WAY HARDER than toddlers any day. Teenagers can make you so frustrated that it's a good thing they prefer to shut themselves up in their rooms. Because if they were in your face like a toddler, they'd die.
Maybe that's just my house? My teenager? Is mine weird?
Anyway, he hugged me. Voluntarily. With witnesses! For a boy who was so attached to me that he forced me to carry him well into kindergarten, and who held my hand till at least grade 2, he hates hugs.
And then he thanked me for giving him life. That one came out of left field, even though it was Thanksgiving. You see, usually he lives in a boat named LIAM, floating on the sea of ME, way out on the planet called SELF INDULGENCE.
I had to wipe a tear from my eye.
I kid. He's not THAT bad. Actually he's much the same as I was as a teenager. I'm fond of telling him that too. He LOVES when I tell him that.
Now, if he could only wake up to his damn alarm clock so he didn't spend the whole morning stomping around because he's slept in. If that happened I could maybe see the end of the hell that has been the last 4 years with his moodiness.
(well, the last 13 if I'm being completely honest. That kid was born with WAY more estrogen than I was expecting for a boy)
Of course then we're going to get into smoking and drinking and skipping school and drugs and ohmygod why does anyone have kids.
And then I get to do it all again with pretty much two at the same time.
I'm so glad we stopped at three.