where wildly different is perfectly normal
What a difference a decade makes
What a difference a decade makes

What a difference a decade makes

Ten years ago I was a very different person. I thought I was stressed. I was convinced I was busy. And I knew I could handle parenting.

You’ve all peed yourselves laughing, haven’t you?

What a difference a decade makes.

Today A hit double digits. The big 1-0. Two full hands of fingers. Full-on tween mode.

SweetbabyJesuswithabirthdaycake I can’t believe we made it. I laugh when I say he’s lucky I let him live to see 5 (though there is more than a grain of truth there…and a whole lot of trauma drama), and here he is double that age.

He is sweet, loving, caring, intense, complex. He is brilliant, immature, outgoing, introverted, mind-boggling. He craves attention yet has debilitating stage fright. He routinely shocks adults into stunned silence with his intelligent questions and deep knowledge of what interests him (to Phil, the nice guy in charge of the servers at Tom’s office…you’re his new favorite person in the whole wide world). He is intent on being an inventor, devours information on all things tech (especially Apple), and desperately wants to disassemble his computer to see how it works. He not only marches to the beat of a different drummer, but insists that drummer play in 7/8-5/8-2/4-3/8-9/16 time. His own teacher has admitted that public school isn’t designed for kids like him (and has requested that A remember him when he makes a gazillion dollars with one of his inventions), and is the most complex kid his school has seen.

I’m so glad I’m his mom. I scream at the skies, buy wine by the box, and make myself sick with stress…but I can’t imagine my life without him. I adore this kid. I can’t believe he’s been mine for ten years now, and can’t wait to see what the next ten brings.

Wait…those are the teen years. Perhaps I should skip wine by the box and just move to wine by the barrel.

I love you A. You are one hell of a kid.

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