Being a parent is so weird. When they are toddlers and little guys you are all about keeping them near you, not letting them out of your sight, monitoring their intake of food, entertainment, external stimuli. Then they hit middle school and you can physically see them, like baby eagles stretching their wings in mock flight, moving towards independence.

It’s just after eight thirty in the evening on the last day of school, and both of my boys are elsewhere. And I couldn’t be happier. They are out amongst their own exercising their social muscles and interacting.

This has been an incredible year. Cody has been through such monumental changes, physically, mentally and emotionally. Being thirteen is so complicated. He has always had a grace socially, finding the positives in each person and managing to overlook the negatives. He is all boy, yet has found a balance with his softer side that makes him the boy all the girls really like. But he has made huge leaps in his belief in himself academically. We have had hardcore arguments and depth defying conversations. I think I finally got through to him on the whole “school” issue. I told him to think about college. Not just college but college girls. And having his own “place”. With no parents. This seemed to spark a sudden affinity for studying that I wished I had discovered at the beginning of the year. It could have meant honor roll.
Josh has been an academic machine – all honors and AP courses, only one high B with the rest A’s. Amazing really, for a freshman at 14. His English teacher has asked him to be on the debate team next year. But he has started talking about being in a band. And about Shawna. The girl he actually walked out of the building with today. Smiling. Now this might not seem like a big deal to most. But you have to understand that Josh barely makes eye contact with anyone. I remember seeing him in the halls in middle school and he literally walked, fast, along the wall. His shoulder actually touched the wall. He is a deeply sensitive guy. And he wounds easily. He also holds onto grief. He was born with an distrust that I noticed almost immediately. He walked really early, nine months. We would go to the park and he wouldn’t go to other kids. He would wait until they left their toys in the sand and he would sidle up with one eye affixed to the owner, until he made contact. This at barely ten months. Then the X and I divorced. And little guy Josh saw that as dad leaving. Then his best friend, the one that he invested everything into, moved away. Another friend moved away, and again this year one of the guys he actually said he could see being friends with, is moving to Thailand. Friends leave with a piece of him and he is left feeling, well, incomplete. We have talked pretty extensively about investing in friendships, accepting others as they are, etc. and he truly seems to be trying to dunk the big toe into the water. Today he called a friend and asked him over but the friend said that his family was barbequing. Cody and I both saw the sadness and disappointment wash over his face and I knew that Cody wished he could fix it, just as I did.
But two hours later the phone rang, and it was an invitation to the barbeque. First words out of Josh’s mouth – is there anything vegetarian?
AAAARRRRGGGGGHHH!
I am making cutting motions across my neck, Cody has his palms on his temples with a “what are you DOING!” look on his face.
I’m just kiddin’. Josh says with a smile, I’ll see you in a minute. Off he went, on his bike.
Cody is at the local hangout carousing with his pack of soon to be eight grade studs.Life is good.