My boys are growing up.
I don’t think I ever wished my boys would grow down per se…but maybe they could slow down a little?
I swear we called J, “Baby J” for many years of his life. And now here he is driving off in the truck, all by himself. He’s gone from 6 in the morning until 3:30 in the afternoon and I’m supposed to be all nonchalant about the whole thing.
But I feel anything BUT nonchalant.
Non/cha/lant ADJ: A person feeling or appearing casually calm and relaxed; not anxiety = not me.
Oh. And here’s a little thing. He has Type 1 Diabetes.
I know you know.
Oh, I TOTALLY know you know.
That means a lot of rules. And guess what? 16 year olds are notorious for skimming the edge of rules. He does just enough not to get in trouble, but just enough to drive me bananas too.
New rules include checking his blood sugars before he gets behind the wheel. And if he breaks that rule, or at least if he’s caught breaking it…he can’t drive the next day.
Let’s just say it out loud. Rules are WAY harder on parents than on the kids. I said it and I mean it.
I hate handing down punishments. Punishments or consequences are very last on my “favorite things to do list.”
I haven’t had to hand it out yet…because even though he's been driving for months, he just started driving to school today…so we’re still baby stepping through all of this. And it's a pretty straightforward drive, even though in my head it looks more like this:
What makes it even harder is J, (diagnosed at 8 months old,) feels his highs and lows. His amazing A1C glows. He is an anomaly when it comes to teenagers and Type 1. So testing on a schedule chaps his hide.
But rules are rules. Safety is safety. Life is life.
Life. Yes! Let’s just keep everyone alive, shall we?
And he has a beard like thing on his face. I just thought I'd throw that in there for context.
I know that growing up is hard on kids. But can we just all take a minute of silence for the parents.
Thank you anyway.
Brave face: ON.