Does that make sense? Other than the ficticious word, convincest.
What I am trying to say is that I've read the books - lots of 'em! I've taken classes - a few. I've tried my hardest and with every brain cell that I have left to figure out why it (parenting) is so hard some days, but all I can come up with is that it just is. Plain and simple.
I remember being an angsty pre-teen (which of course carried over into my teenage years, and there is not enough wine in the world to make my own mother forget about those) - but I remember it happening much later than it is with my son. I also recall that my moodiness and general dislike for anything my mother had to tell me was tied into my menstrual cycle, but what that has to do with my son, I have no idea. Boys don't get periods.
But boys get moody. They get moody and they get unmoody just as quickly as girls. This, I never knew. I thought only girls were like this. I must have been too busy checking my mall bangs in the mirror singing "You spin me right round baby right round like a record baby right round round round" to notice if my younger brother was experiencing this adolescent angst that seems to transform my baby at the drop of a dime.
My baby. That's just it. I love him just as much when he's being all weird and crabby as I did when I would cradle him in my arms. He may be changing, but my love for him is not - no matter how many times he rolls his eyes at me or loses his temper with his siblings.
When I read Slouching Mom's post, Floating, about her son, I cried.
No, it isn't because I'm hormonal and moody (see? it never ends). It's because for the first time someone had expressed exactly what I'd been feeling but didn't know how to say when it comes to parenting a boy on the cusp of young manhood.
So, I am giving her the Perfect Post for May. Thank you, Slouching Mom, for opening my eyes to a whole new level of understanding, of being, of parenting. Thank you for helping me see it through his eyes, instead of my 35-year-old ones (maybe I need glasses?).