Letter To My Teenager

Dear Big J,

How is it that you’re 13 already? There’s no way it’s possible. It was just a few years ago that you were born, only months since you learned to read, and only days since you learned to ride a bike. What’s that? I’m mistaken on the time frame? I guess that’s what happens with memories.

The day you were born, we knew you were coming. We had to go to the hospital for induction because you were over a week past due. Your Dad, Grandma, and NiNi were all there in the room when you took your first breath at 5:35 p.m., while the rest of the entire family waited anxiously outside. There was never another baby who was more adored than you were on that day (and many days to follow).

You seemed so tiny, even through you weighed 8 lbs. and were 19 inches long. You had downy blonde hair that reminded me of a baby chick. The first night we were home, I don’t think I slept a wink. I kept getting up to check on you and make sure you were still breathing. (Actually, this went on most of your infancy, as it did when Little J was born).

Everyone agreed that you were a little cherub. You were as cute as a button and were always smiling. Auntie E could always make you laugh. When you slept, you looked like an angel. When you were awake, we threw balls and read stories and played on the piano.

I didn’t know how to be a mommy until you came along. How could I? I was just a kid myself, only two years older than you are now. We’ve grown up together, kiddo. You were there when I graduated from high school, and you’ll be there when I graduate from college. I am so glad to have you as my son. You are kind and thoughtful and loving. That is, when you aren’t exhibiting behaviors fueled by hormones. Even then, you’re pretty easy going. That’s probably a good thing, seeing as you’re quickly passing me up in the height/weight department.

I’m also glad that we got to spend an entire day together, just the two of us. You kept telling me what a great day it was. It was fun to hang out with you, man. As I write this to you, my eyes have filled with tears and some have spilled over. I am so very proud of the young man you are, even as I am afraid of what may come in the future. Whatever comes, I know that you will thrive. You always have. I wish everything I wished for you then, only harder.

I love you so very much,

Mom