6,205 days

 

My boy,

Today, you are seventeen. I feel like I just put you down for the night in your Thomas the Tank bed after reading you a book about transportation vehicles. It’s trite but true: time has absolutely flown by.

You have begun your junior year, the hardest in high school, I think. I know you’ll work hard as you always do. What I want the most, though, is for you to make time to have fun and hang out with your friends. Life is short, bud, and I want you to make the most of it.

Dad and I think it’s wonderful that you tried out for and are now part of the Varsity Singers at school. I know that being on stage isn’t usually in your wheelhouse, but it’s important to move out of your comfort zone when you can. When we watched the VS show after the summer camp, I couldn’t stop smiling. What a joy to be part of such a talented group of kids.

I love the way you’re always willing to help people, whether pet sitting while they’re on vacation or plant sitting for the same reason. They trust you because you’re hard-working, kind, and dependable. I’m not sure I would say that about every teen I know. You’re also incredibly kind and generous. I know you would do anything for your friends and family, but it’s also the little things like putting a bug outside instead of squashing it or reassuring me that I’m still a good cook when I mess up a new recipe. You have a gentle soul. I know that’s not cool to admit, but I hope you embrace it. With all the hate in the world, we need men like you who aren’t afraid to be kind.

When I watch you and Lottie interact, my heart swells. You’re goofy and patient, and I hope so much that your sibling relationship gets stronger all the time. I want you two to count on each other and help each other through the craziness of life.

I love how witty you are. You’re smart, of course, but you’re funny, too. You know so much about things that make my head spin. I enjoy listening to you talk about history, politics, and books. You’re good at math and science, and you understand all the logic and need for structure in both subjects. At heart, though, I think you’re a guy who embraces the beauty of the world that exists outside of the physical. I love spending time with you because you always give me something to think about. 

My wish for your seventeenth year is for you to be kind to yourself. We all have expectations of what we should do and who we should be, but please remember that humans are fluid and ever changing. The person you are now isn’t the person you were five years ago, nor will you be the same person in five years. Your heart will always be kind, inclusive, and loving, and your mind will always be open. Other than that, the world is your oyster. Allow yourself to find joy in the unknown, even if it seems a little scary at first.

I am ridiculously proud of you, and I am prouder every day. Knowing you is a privilege. 

Love you, my best boy,

Mom

Just go with it

There are times in my life when I have epiphanies: crystal clear moments of seeing who I really am or what is truly important in life.  I recently had a big one.

 Last night, we experienced the wonder of preschool celebrations: the holiday singalong.  Dozens of preschoolers dressed in their holiday finest, singing Christmas songs on a stage in front families loaded down by cameras, video cameras, and cell phones.  All of the kids were beyond adorable: smiling on the stage, waving to their parents, jingling their bells...all except one.  Dallas.  Yep, my kid didn't want to go on stage.  Not one bit.  No way, no how.  I honestly didn't mind, or I didn't think that I minded.

I was actually pretty happy that he was feeling some stage-fright as soon as we arrived at the theater.  Little boys were in ties, Christmas sweaters, and khakis while girls were sparkly in holiday dresses with glittering tights and fancy shoes.  Dallas was in gray sweatpants, a shirt in an entirely different shade of gray, a blue hoodie emblazoned with a skull, and his favorite Spider-Man gym shoes.  Needless to say, I was a touch mortified that I hadn't made him get gussied up before we left the house.

His teacher convinced him to sit in the front row so he could join in the singing and jingle-belling with the rest of his classmates.  He sat beside me with his hood over his head Unabomber-style and happily sang the songs from his seat while the rest of the class sang on stage.  I couldn't seem to shake the tense feeling I had, though, about why he wouldn't just suck it up and go do what he was supposed to do.  I didn't want the other parents to judge me on his behavior.  Serious selfishness, right?  I did my best to mask my tension from him because I didn't want him to sense that I was embarrassed by his choice.  I was embarrassed for me, sure.  But I also didn't want him to stand out and be...different.

About halfway through the program, the kids stood up to do the "Reindeer Pokey."  For those of you not in the know, you put your antlers in, you put your antlers out.  You put your antlers in, and you shake 'em all about it.  And, really, that's what it's all about.  I noticed Dallas slowly scooting out of his chair, and I told him he could go up on stage if he felt like it.  He smiled at me and climbed up on the stage.  There he stood in the front of the pack, hood up, looking slightly rumpled, and danced his little booty off.

Working the antlers

And in that moment, watching him on the stage, every bit of embarrassment or tension I felt melted completely away.  This kid was having a ball, and he didn't care one bit what anyone else, on stage or in the audience, thought about him or what he was doing.  For a second, I could see him as a teenage boy and a young man, just doing his thing, living his life, and being happy.  I ceased caring if other parents were wondering what the hell this kid was doing or why he was doing it.  I truly and deeply lived in that sweet moment, and I felt all the joy I imagine Dallas was feeling.

Shakin' his tail all about

As soon as the song was over, he sat back down beside me and stayed there until the final two songs when he decided to finish on the stage with his friends.  After the last song, the teachers invited the students to take a bow for the audience.  Dallas's bow was so big, so proud, and so elaborate that he almost fell over.  I was so proud of him for knowing exactly what he wanted to do and for having the courage to do it his way.  Quite frankly, I'm in awe of how he lives his life with such honesty.  I was proud of myself for letting go of what I thought I was supposed to be thinking or feeling.  Dallas may not march to the same drum-beat as everyone else, but I love whatever sound he chooses to hear.

No frills, no fancy...just my boy