I have obviously never been a 13-year-old boy.
Or, well… a boy or man ever.
Which means I have approximately zero things in common with my son.
Except that’s not actually true.
We both thoroughly enjoy playing pranks on people. We enjoy hiding around corners waiting to scare unsuspecting family members. We enjoy randomly screaming things just to see what happens. We both understand that one day this behavior will probably result in one of us getting punched directly in the face.
But until then?
The tradition continues.
We also enjoy the same types of games (Fallout,Red Dead etc). He got my cool, chill, laid-back beach vibes personality. He just always goes with the flow no worries no big deal. He somehow also inherited my quick temper and short fuse though.
Sorry about that, buddy.
The rest of him is all Matt.
He is Matt’s mini-me in every possible way. Same determination. Same stubbornness. Same ability to decide he’s going to do something and then immediately make it happen. Same running into people he knows literally EVERYWHERE we go…
He just happens to have my face.
One thing he definitely inherited from me is our shared love of food.
Not healthy food.
Not vegetables.
Desserts.
Cookies.
Cake.
Brownies.
Ice cream.
Watching videos about desserts.
Making desserts.
Talking about desserts.
Planning future desserts.
We are what the kids call “Big Backs.”
We are the little fat kids of the family, peeps.
If there is a dessert table at an event, we are both already mentally ranking our favorites before we even sit down.
Another thing we have in common is that we are incredibly mean to each other in the most loving way possible.
We roast each other constantly.
We call each other names.
We exchange insults that would probably concern people who don’t understand our relationship.
But at the end of the day, I’m still the person he looks for in the crowd.
Whether it’s baseball, basketball, football, or some other sporting event his ass somehow convinced me to attend, I always catch him scanning the stands.
Looking for me. Followed by a Smirk and a little wave and a huge grin!
And every time, my heart does that stupid little thing where it melts.
Because for all the name-calling and sarcasm, I’m still Mom.
He is one of the most dedicated people I have ever met.
And he’s only 13.
If he says he’s going to do something, he does it.
Period.
Now focused?
Absolutely not.
The child is the physical embodiment of ADHD.
Around our house we simply call it “Squirrel!”
One minute we’re discussing something important.
The next minute he’s talking about sports, YouTube, video games, some random fact he learned, a weird noise the dog made, and asking if we have cookies.
All simultaneously.
His brain moves at approximately the speed of light.
He was born at the end of October during my favorite season and right before my favorite holiday.
Maybe that’s why I’ve always had a soft spot for the little turd.
The older my kids get, the more I realize that the love you have for each child is different.
Not more.
Not less.
Just different.
The bond between a mom and a son feels different than the bond between a mom and a daughter. And even my daughters are completely different from one another.
Each relationship has its own personality.
Its own memories.
Its own inside jokes.
Its own special place in my heart.
What never changes is how fiercely I love them.
I love all three of my kids more than anything in this entire universe.
I live and breathe for those assholes.
And honestly, that’s what’s been hitting me so hard lately.
I’ve spent the last week writing these sappy posts because I am struggling to comprehend how fast time is moving.
How did the babies who used to fit on my hip become teenagers?
How did I blink and suddenly have a senior, a sophomore, and an eighth grader?
How is that even possible?
Because in five short years, all three of them will be adults.
Adults.
Not kids.
Not teenagers.
Adults.
Five years feels like forever until you realize the last five years disappeared in about seventeen minutes.
The thought of them no longer living in my house someday is knocking me for an absolute fucking loop, peeps.
I know that’s the goal.
I know we’re supposed to raise independent humans who go out into the world and build lives of their own.
I know all of that! I understand that!
But that doesn’t mean I have to like it!
So for now, I’ll keep showing up to the sporting events.
I’ll keep buying the snacks.
I’ll keep listening to the endless stories, random facts, and squirrel moments!
I’ll keep laughing at the insults and dishing them right back.
Because one day impossibly soon these noisy, messy, chaotic years are going to be gone.
And I have a feeling I’m going to miss every single second of them.
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