Today was a day like any other day. I just wanted to post that I love my son. He and I are still fairly close and though I have had to give up the "coolest" Mom title a few years ago. I am still not in the ranks of the "most uncool mother ever." Thankfully I have not become the most "annoying mother" ever yet either, though I am working very HARD at that title.
Today, when talking to my son about nothing at all, as we often do, I remembered something profound. As we spoke I remembered how immature and child like he still is. He is still so innocent and I thought, "though I talk to him about mature subjects, can he really understand." Truth is they don't, but you hope that they file it away for a later time when they might need it.
We recently had the conversation about the change in boys. The fact that they develop desires and penises begin to do some very weird things that they will lack control over. We talked about masturbation and sex. We have talked about all of this stuff because he needs to know. I was embarassed about my mother giving me a book to read when I was 11 but I realize that it was the best thing she ever did. I understood what was going on with me and could handle it. I understood what was going on and was able to make better decisions. I credit my desire to wait to have sex to the openess of my mother, it made me almost grossed out to even want to have sex with the way she talked about it all the time. LOL
In the end, there is this odd balance I am dealing with when it comes to my son. He is double digits, so close to teen but not quite teen. He is getting all kinds of information from his friends that is not accurate. I hear these conversations and I am slightly disgusted and I always tell him that if he hears something he come and talk to me about it. He does, but still, face to palm please.
In the end, I love my son to pieces and he is still my baby. I have to remember he is growing up and tomorrow is another day.... Tomorrow I might not have that boy who is willing to lean on me in public. Tomorrow he might not give me a hug good bye no matter how much I beg. Tomorrow, he might be taller than me.
I am not a parent who handles the children growing gracefully. I cry, I whine, and I pout an awful lot. I am not sure what I will do next as a parent, but I try every day to screw him up, I mean guide him as well as I can.