This is my son, Sebastian, also lovingly known around these parts as Beba. He’s actually 13 right now (going on 14 this month) but in the picture he was just under a year old. Back when he was that age, he actually smiled when I put a camera in front of him. Nowadays, I could barely get him to look at the camera much less take a picture.
When I look at him now, I see a boy who is taller than me. A boy with whom my interactions have been reduced to him asking me what’s for dinner or requesting that I pick something up for him on the way home from work. A boy who once told me that even when he gets a wife one day I would still be number one.
And now I could barely even get a hug out of him.*sigh*
We are entering a different time, my son and me. I know I shouldn’t be worried about it. That it’s normal behavior for any teen-aged boy to not be as loving and open with his mom as he was when he was a pre-schooler. Instead of worrying about whether something is wrong with him when he doesn’t openly share his deepest and darkest feelings with me, I’ll just remember not to over-complicate things. If he doesn’t want to share details of his day with me the way his older sister typically does nor does he want to cuddle with mom the way his younger sister does on the daily, I have to tell myself that it isn’t because I’m a bad parent or that he doesn’t like me. This is just the way it is for a boy his age. And as I mentioned above, he is just turning 14 so we have several more years of this just the way it is.
But you know what? Sebastian and I are gonna be fine. I know this because I firmly believe that I, along with his dad (can’t take all the credit now, can I?), have at least created a strong foundation in our son from which he could build good character. And as we navigate through his teen years, I vow to do the following:
If I live by these words, I’m confident that we’ll survive the teen years relatively unscathed.
The only thing that truly concerns me is the first time a girl breaks my son’s heart. God help that girl.