|At the bus stop.|
Being the parent of a 15 year old boy is not the easiest job ever. Sometimes I find myself holding my breath after delivering news or information that could elicit a negative response. His reaction could be humble and understanding, he could find it funny and respond with a sense of humor or I could get the dark cloud. Some messages have to be given in such a way that he thinks that the desired action was his idea. Others have to be given as a demand. Still others have to be slipped into the conversation like it had been decided all along and there is no need or reason for dissension.
Even with all of the head games,
I wouldn't trade it for anything. Why?
Because he is home.
It means I get to have intelligent conversations with someone who knows me pretty well. It means we get to see him as soon as he leaves class and I get to hear all about it. It means that if I'm still in bed when he gets up in the morning that he will come and cuddle with me. It means that the other children have a fun big brother to invent new games--and he's big enough to carry them around. Having him home means I can do my make-up in the car while he drives. It means there is another big person in the house to help with adult sized chores. It means I have someone who will tell me when my hair is aging me. :)
One personality trait that I have battled since I was little is that I don't want to put anyone out. Sometimes that means I overburden myself or don't require others to learn, serve or grow because I just do it myself. Yesterday, I shared some of that struggle with my 15 year old boy. He gave me permission to give someone an assignment and even showed me what a benefit that assignment would be to the other person. What a blessing to have such a wise child in my midst.
And eventually he will no longer be 15