I have a teenager. Biggest is thirteen years old, his voice has gone to that crazy place of deeper valleys and broken crags; his feet seem too large for his body. There is no way I can ignore that he is a teenager very near the cusp of the man he will, one day and all too soon it seems, become. And yesterday, loving him sucked so much.
I suppose I should be more clear – I adore my son. I love him with all my old lady heart. And loving him doesn’t suck. Except when it sucks my old lady heart out and leaves it hurting. Continue reading