My Life As a Mom of a Teenager

I am tickled to introduce you to my friend, Deb, as this month's guest blogger. Deb is an outstanding teacher and mom. She is raising a teenager and is still alive to tell us about it. ;)

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FOOTPRINTS OF THE HEART

When I close my eyes, I can still feel the gentle weight of my newborn son, wrapped in a white fuzzy blanket and nestled in my protective arms. How I loved to hold him close and smell his baby soft skin, rocking back and forth, back and forth. I think I will forever remember the wonder I felt as I looked at his tiny hands and feet. I recall stooping over again and again to pick up the doll-sized socks that kept slipping off his little feet, proof of just how small he was. The fierce sense of love that I felt was overwhelming, my joy undeniable.

Fast forward fourteen and a half years, those little feet have ballooned into man-sized feet, complete with hairy toes and a stench that'll make even the brave gag! That sweet baby smell and those gurgling coos are replaced with Axe cologne spray and a deep voice that complains and argues over whose turn it is to empty the dishwasher or take the garbage out. Gone is the obedient little boy who would willingly go to bed after a bedtime story and a good night snuggle. In that little boy's place is a defense lawyer in the making, ready at every turn to give a logical argument as to why he should be able to stay up as long as he likes or why a C- in Spanish class is really no big deal.

Just as I was amazed by all the simple abundance in my life all those years ago, so too am I amazed by all the change! The old cliché of time slipping by couldn't be truer. As desperately as I cling to those precious memories, hoping time will stand still, my son determinedly strives forward eager to get his driver's license and first job.

I often shake my head and rub my eyes certain that I will be back in that rocking chair, only to discover that I gave in to that bone weary exhaustion. But no, try as I may, the dirty socks and well worn tennis shoes littering my doorway are real.

I know that in the not-so-distant future, I will even miss those socks and shoes that I trip over each day. I may complain about the sassy attitude, the sloppy job he did of cleaning up the once-tidy bathroom, or of how he drinks milk not by the glass but by the gallon, and yet I wouldn't trade any of it because this season of motherhood is just as priceless as any other- maybe not so sweet smelling, but precious nonetheless!

Savor each moment and try not to stand in the way as that little baby takes a step forth, making a lasting footprint for all to admire.

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Thank you for sharing, Deb! You even make it sound not so bad to have a teenager. :)


~ If you would like to share your story of motherhood with us, please let me know. We'd love to hear it! ~