...for a different kind of girl

silent surburban girl releasing her voice, not yet knowing what all she wants to say about her life and the things that make it spin. do you have to be 18 to be here? you'll know when i know.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

since he has no idea I have a blog, i can still get away with writing about him

My oldest son had just turned 9 years old and entered fourth grade when I started this blog in 2006 (aka - Back When I'd Write Three - Count 'Em THREE - Blog Posts A Week)(Hahahahahahahaa. Three times a week! I mean, who the hell did I think I was? Shakespeare?!). Last week, this same little boy celebrated his 15th birthday and started his sophomore year in high school. 

While I don't profess to understanding the amazing nuances of time and space, one day I woke up the mother of a small child and ended the day with a stranger skulking about the place. The reality of my new role hit me, really, last month when, while working in my kitchen, prepping a dinner 3 out of 4 household members wouldn't approve of, I heard a strange man's voice coming from my children's rooms. I wondered who had sneaked into my sacred home, and what might he be invoking upon my babies. 

That's when I realized the sound was coming from my oldest baby. His voice is deep and cavernous and so unlike that of a child any longer, and each time he speaks, THAT'S when I'm hit my the astounding reality of time. Space slams into me as I try to catch myself after tripping over his Goliath-sized 12 Air Jordans, desired footwear so cherished I often find them discarded in the middle of every room I walk through, as if my son has vanished in mid-stride. Gone are the days of Legos and wooden blocks littering my floors. Now, in addition to giant shoes, it's prized electronic equipment and odd smelling clothes.

This is the first year he's not responded with a guttural death rattle when, at the start of the school year, I ask if this will be the one in which he obtains a girlfriend. "Maybe," he responded last week.

Maybe.

Well, maybe, if he does, I hope he finds one who's nice to others, kind to him, and not afraid to meet me. That she'll be someone he'll talk with. Really talk with. Mostly, I hope she'll be one who makes him remember all the talks he and I've had about strong, healthy, timely relationships, and who can respect those topics, too. I want him to remember that his voice and his body may be those of a man on the brink, but that he's not yet that man.

I'm lucky to have such a good kid. I really am. I could be a fantastic mother and sugarcoat his personality completely, but that would be a lie, for there are days scattered here and there that make me want to rush upstairs, throw open his closet door, and unchain the real him that this tyrant teenager has stuffed away in the dark corner, cowering among the artifacts of his childhood neither of us is completely ready to get rid of just yet.

I've already sort of forgotten the sound of his little boy voice. It's definitely not there when I overhear him laughing with his friends, talking about something that happened at school or the 'guy stuff' he won't elaborate about when I ask him just what exactly that might be. "Just guy stuff," he says with his guy voice. Mysterious, laden with testosterone, possibly enhanced by belches guy stuff. The kind of stuff I'll never be able to figure out, despite all my years of trying.

Perhaps I'll get that strange man who lives upstairs in our house, the one with the crackly voice and giant feet, to let me in on it one of these days. And maybe, if I ask nicely, he'll slow down and not hit me with his 16th birthday so damn fast.



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17 Comments:

Blogger lime said...

oh it is a shock to the system, isn't it? i remember catching my son out of the corner of my eye. the shadow that passed registered in my brain as "grown man" and i whirled around to see who the strange man in my house was only to find my son.

as for the strange smelling clothes....lord have mercy....i feel your pain.

hoping you get those talks and he makes the good choices you've taught him to look for.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012 10:14:00 PM  
Blogger Sailor said...

Having gone past three- yes, three of those transitions, even as a dad I can relate; but worse, is seeing my baby, my pumpkin-seed, as a 15 year-old young woman.
Good lord, it shoujld be outlawed!!

Tuesday, August 21, 2012 10:23:00 PM  
Blogger Bethany said...

Boohoohooo, say it ain't so! Stop the flying time warp. I was happy to see your post in my reader, funny girl...

Wednesday, August 22, 2012 7:26:00 AM  
Blogger Craig said...

Just for the sake of sayin' so, it doesn't slow down with the passage of additional time. Before you know it, he'll be buying you a beer. Or turning 30. Like my eldest. . .

7M is pretty close to yer eldest - he's 14, and just started his freshman year of HS. And he's taller than his mom now (altho he's still got an inch or two to go, before he passes me), and the whole, deep, crackly voice thing. Check, and check.

Sheesh, the empty nest is just around the freakin' corner. . .

Wednesday, August 22, 2012 9:44:00 AM  
Blogger the weirdgirl said...

Say Happy Birthday to your young man for me! And gah! my heart is aching at how fast it's all going by. Reminds me NOT to wish mine to grow up so quickly. (Especially on those days where I'm in a mood and annoyed that I'm still doing so many things for him. I know, I know. Bad mom!)

Wednesday, August 22, 2012 11:55:00 AM  
Anonymous Cat @ Beyond Elsewhere said...

Ok, even *I'm* shocked that your youngest is 15 because I still think of you as having two small boys. Cripes time passed quickly. I think it's the Internet's fault really. Time passed a lot slower when it didn't exist.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012 3:52:00 PM  
Blogger Xavier said...

Time to epoxy 'em at their present size before it becomes a disaster .....

Actually it can be kinda nice as they age. Both our brats are early 20's and lots a help and fun. And a LOT less maintenance. We could be empty nesters but we're really not in a big hurry for that. I think. She may think otherwise.

But enjoy it while you can, he'll never be quite like this again. now is that scary or terrifying??

Thursday, August 23, 2012 7:18:00 PM  
Blogger Kate Coveny Hood said...

Time moves far too quickly for me. I'm not ready for any of that. Of course, my seven year old has taken to telling me that he doesn't want to be big - that he's "still little." So at least we're on the same page as of now...

Friday, August 24, 2012 10:49:00 AM  
Blogger anymommy said...

Oh god, this made my stomach clench in fear. We'll have six size 12 shoes laying about. Unfathomable.

Wednesday, August 29, 2012 7:21:00 PM  
Blogger The Lady's Lounge said...

Found a cassette tape, a few weeks ago, of me writing a song. Part way through, my 4 year old daughter came in and interrupted me and I was curt with her.

I broke down crying when I heard it my - my heart ached.

Now she is 16 and throws tantrums over curfew and cell phone privileges.

Thursday, August 30, 2012 7:47:00 AM  
Blogger Michele R said...

I know what you mean about forgetting the small boy voice. My boys were playing a video a friend of theirs made a few years ago and I could not believe the young, unfamiliar now voices.
Also, last year my middle son was standing with his back to me at the kitchen sink and for a second I wondered who that man was ib our house.

Tuesday, September 04, 2012 6:44:00 AM  
Blogger Homemaker said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012 10:00:00 PM  
Blogger Homemaker Man said...

Shit. I am filled with dread. If it helps any, "guy stuff" means farting, debates about Albee vs. Mamet:who is more important in the Modern American Theatre? and gratuitous use of the word pubes. If it helps.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012 10:03:00 PM  
OpenID tysdaddy said...

What a lovely post. As the parent of older kids (18, 14, 13, 11) I get all of this. The anxiety. The "where the hell did my kids go?!" thinking. And yet, I am so filled with pride. For them. In spite of me, they've grown up and become their own little people, filled with paradox and whimsy. Yep, I get this . . .

Monday, September 17, 2012 11:33:00 AM  
Blogger Leslie said...

Oh wow. This one put a giant lump in my throat, FADKOG. Whew. Well-written (as all of your posts are.) I loved: "I want him to remember that his voice and his body may be those of a man on the brink, but that he's not yet that man."

I'm clinging to every day trying to keep them from growing too quickly. But just remember, he's only 15! Still a baby...

Tuesday, September 18, 2012 12:36:00 PM  
Blogger Bijoux said...

Miss you!

Monday, November 19, 2012 4:00:00 PM  
Blogger game man said...

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Friday, June 14, 2013 7:42:00 AM  

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