Amy’s Musings » To My Son On The Eve of His 14th Birthday

Dec

To My Son On The Eve of His 14th Birthday

Happy Ethan Eve, Ethan!

I just want you to know that at this time of year I always think back to the hours I spent in labor, the painful IV, and the episiotomy that was roughly 210 sutures and started at my navel and made a complete horse shoe to the middle of my spine.

All of this to give you life so that 14 years later I could enjoy your razor sharp sense of humor and delightful personality. Wait… Wait… that is more appropriate for the first 12 years.

No, now I think about all that I went through to give you life each time you roll your eyes, snap at me and become quite annoyed when I ask you about your homework. Yes, I know you made Honor Roll… that doesn’t mean I’m never going to ask you about your homework, studies or life in general… good grades do not equal complete independence.

And, in case you are wondering… the other day when I called you a jackass? I meant it and you are.

For the most part, you are still a good kid with a razor sharp sense of humor and a delightful attitude (at least 35% of the time) and believe it or not, I cut you a lot more slack then you might think. You see, I attribute some of your nastier moments to uncontrollable, raging hormones. In fact, if it were not for my unique understanding of raging hormones you would probably be dead or dealing with a severe limp and an inability to have children of your own. So, perhaps instead of getting REALLY annoyed when I seem a bit snappy in return from time to time, you should just get on your knees and thank God, the universe or both for PMS. In a strange way it’s the only thing that is keeping you alive and walking normally right now.

In all sincerity, you are my favorite son, my favorite oldest child and my favorite firstborn.

Some have pointed out that it is because we have so much in common that we become so annoyed with one another… I think it’s incredibly dumb when they point this out in the presence of both of us and incur our combined wrath.

Still, I’ve really enjoyed the last 14 years with you and am looking forward to many, many, many, many, many, many more. ;o)

Face it, kid, you’re going to be stuck with me for a long, damn time.

Love you,
Mom