[su_heading size=”18″]Parenting a Thirteen Year Old Boy[/su_heading]
Aspenweather.net mentioned how March went out like a lamb. And it did. A soft, furry, adorable lamb, teasing us with snowstorms mixed with summer temperatures. But we roll here, breaking out our skis for the storms and 0ur bikes for the inclement weather. It’s all good, if you love to play outside.
As my boys sprout up like a sped up time lapse of a flower growing, I am thankful that we live in a place that supports the outdoors. Otherwise, the new found anger in my thirteen year old would bust out a set of horns on his head. As adorable as he still is, everything makes him sooo angry…when there is none of his precious OJ in the fridge or worse, and far more understandable, when I embarrass him by sticking my nose in his mouth to smell his breath at an outdoor concert. Yes I know, he’s only 13, but I’m trying to steer him in the right direction, knowing that he will teeter and occasionally veer off that straight and narrow path to manhood. Especially when that sweet, green smell of marijuana is lingering like a low flying cloud wanting to settle on any bored teenager just waiting for a little excitement to float into their lives. As the proverbs say, “It is not what a teenager knows that worries his parents. It’s how he found out.”
After getting reprimanded by my son for being so embarrassing, Baddy told me to cool it down a few notches, teaching me that there are more discreet ways to discover if your child is testing his boundaries. I agree. I also know that I need to trust my children and not worry so much. Where is that book that tells you how to be the perfect parent? I’m sure as hell not going to be the one to write it!
The other aspect to having teenagers is that their younger siblings begin to mimic their behavior, cussing and being defiant. The other day our little one, who is not so little anymore, got upset and started crying so deeply that he couldn’t breathe. His big brother coached him through it telling him to take Darth Vader breaths, “Like mommy does”. And to think that mommy always called it Pranayama breathing.
That same little one is becoming very stealth in his mischievousness, as trained by his older brothers when they want him to sneak something out of the kitchen. The other day he got in trouble when caught happily sucking on a lollipop…for breakfast. When asked why he thought it was okay to eat candy that early in the morning he replied, “It restores my taste buds.” And when mommy ended up half choking and half spitting from the answer, he began to cry, turning the entire situation around to switch our focus away from his naughty behavior and make us the bad guys. “It’s true,” he blurts out, “My taste buds burnout!” That one was so creative I had to let it go.
Moving forward in our forever evolving family dysfunction, we are not staying in town for last call on Buttermilk Mountain on Sunday. Instead we are packing up today to head to the USASA Nationals at Copper Mountain where Mommy’s Darth Vader breathing will intensify as our boys reach for the stars on their skis. We’ll let you know how it all goes.