Surviving 14 or Grunting through grade 8

I have just been deleted as a contact on my son’s BlackBerry Messenger because I was making comments on his status. I am not sure what I have done wrong – isn’t that what you are supposed to do?

My 14 year old son has, in a very short while, become the tallest in the family. I remember I spent his first two years comparing him to his older sister (she didn’t climb the burglar bars or do a back flip off the top of the couch) before I accepted that he was different. But now I am back to comparing...

About two years ago, I became “untouchable” – any public displays of affection suddenly and without warning, stopped – no hugs, certainly no kisses and a display of indifference as to whether or not I was watching games (although I know that last one is all an act when he asks “Did you see me score the goal?”). Now I have to suffer being picked up, mauled or nearly bowled over, in a display of manliness. It reminds me of the Golden Labrador we had when he was two years old – it was a six month old puppy in a dog’s body.

Doors are being slammed and pointedly locked – this from someone who once streaked from our chalet at a resort in Mauritius, all the way down to the water. He seems to have lost the power of speech and only speaks in monosyllables or grunts. SMS is no better – ‘Y’ (why) and ‘K’ (okay). At the same time I now strangely seem to have lost my hearing, in my "old age". I am also not as clever as I used to be, and when I sing along to a song on the radio, it must be a remix from “my day”.

He does manage a full sentence - as in “What’s to eat?” – spoken in a very low growl. I swear he is eating us out of house and home. Which brings me to all the shopping over the last 6 months - we have replaced his entire wardrobe including school uniforms, sports kit and shoes. He is now making noises about nothing fitting him – if you are not careful, you could be bankrupted in the process. 

And talking about clothes – in the last week I have sewn buttons on shirts, shorts and blazer more times than I care to count – I have mental images of boys swinging each other around by their clothes, buttons popping off. Or maybe there is a Hulk-like conversion taking place?

So, if you are a mother to sons, I wish for you a secret trust fund, a large fridge, a wallop of patience and a thick skin. 

Part of the Group

A little while ago I chatted to one of the hockey mums who commented that she did not see me at the matches. My son has been telling me that I didn’t need to come and watch. So off I went a few weeks ago and to my surprise, found a little supporters group of parents who have been valiantly cheering them on all season. (Kind of like the feeling at varsity when everyone assures you that they are not studying and you find them all in the library!).

 It was freezing cold at 800 yesterday morning, watching the last under-14 hockey match of the season, huddled up with other parents on a stand which the sun failed to reach. It was a good game and the opponents were evenly matched.

It felt good to be part of the group as I find that in high school one seems to lose the contact with other parents. I seem to only fetch and drop. It was the same with my daughter, perhaps more difficult since she went to a different high school and he has stayed with the same group of boys from his Prep school.

I am not sure if this is part of his separation from my protective wing, which started with not being kissed goodbye in the mornings, way back in grade 4 or 5. He did the same with the Eisteddfod last term. He was playing his clarinet, and also told me it was not necessary for me to come. I was very glad that I did decide to go and witnessed the atmosphere at the school.  Since he came back from Sweden, I have felt the independence.

Once again I marvel at how differently boys and girls seem to grow up. My daughter has no qualms about kissing me in a busy mall, outside the movies or wherever it is I am dropping her. I hear that it is part of becoming a man and then they come closer again. I guess he is going to have to get used to having me around for another little while longer! I am not quite ready for this empty nest!