Today is T's 16th Birthday. I'm not sure why it's made me sad. Ringo's 16th didn't make me sad.
And I've had to really process through this... there are no favorites in this home. I love them all equally... each brings something different to my heart.
But of the three, T has been the one who has been the easiest. We've had our issues. Don't get me wrong. The speech issues were very troublesome, but overall, he's my easy kid from the 3 hour labor through middle school and into the teens.
He never gives me grief. He's the rule follower, the one who studies. He does his work and doesn't really complain. He gets up early to study. On Thursdays, without anyone asking, he gets up and takes the garbage out to the front.
Rarely do we have to ask him to clean his room. I've never had to harp on him to bathe or brush his teeth. If anything, he'll be after me to get him a haircut... I never have to remind him.
I never have to ask him to shave for school, remind him to tuck in his shirt, or wear a belt.
I can't imagine him giving me the levels of hell my eldest can give me. He doesn't stress me like my youngest.
And I think I realized today... that 16 is bugging me because I'm going to struggle when he leaves home. He is of the calm when there are storms in this home.
He's the one I worry for as well. He hates change, he doesn't like to make new friends.
He did not transition well to high school. It took a good 7 months for him to find his feet and find a couple good friends. In reality... he has one.
Don't get me wrong. Everyone loves T. T hangs with everyone. But there is one only kid he considers a friend.
That's what I worry about in college. I worry about his going away and struggling to find his way, find a comfort zone.
Life is about change. And I guess 16 makes me sad, because 18 is around the corner, he is such a good kid, and for 18, there will be a lot of change and he'll have to do it on his own... I'll be far away. And I dread that time.
That's what's been on my mind.
My football freak is 16.
He was up early this morning as he plays the trombone at the local Presbyterian Church for volunteer service hours. He was at their summer music camp this past summer and is hoping to be a volunteer for them this summer, working with younger trombone players.
It's funny to me how he was determined to play the trombone in 4th grade and here we are now... 10th grade... and he loves it just as much, if not more.
He will probably make Eagle Scout in the next year. He's applying to the Annapolis STEM program for this summer (fingers crossed). He feels certain he wants to be an engineer, although I truly think he'd love stats, given his freakish football stats nature. (Do you know in the BCS bowl, he predicted someone's yardage to nearly 10 yards? I know that's not stats, more hunch, but how crazy is that?)
He told me this year that the smart girls in his grade were mean, and the pretty girls were mostly not the brightest. (The one girl he thinks has it all going on is not someone he would ever dare ask out. She's the ring made of unobtainium.) I told him he could date the pretty girls that weren't so smart... he didn't have to marry them. He's resigned himself not to date. Maybe that's better... less drama. He says he's noticed how much drama seems to swirl around the girls and he finds it annoying.
It's always kind of funny to hear his take...
He is the one who will struggle most when Ringo leaves. They are tight.
And to my second son, Mr. T, on his 16th birthday I say, "Happy Birthday my 2nd son. Should all the children be so blessed to be as loved as you are… for if they were, I suspect the problems of this world would be so very different… We love you so..."
Posted by Boudicca at January 20, 2013 10:49 PM