He is 5 years going on 15, Mother is unprepared.

Kids these days are just growing up so young. At least, this is what I’d heard. But I had no idea that it was the actual truth. Remember that kid of mine? The five year old? Yeah, well, he is now fifteen.

And he is SO OVER us.

It feels like it was just yesterday that I was forcing him into his clothes. Or video-taping him in a school dance. Or passing by the bathroom to find him happily sitting on the can, reading a book about ducks.

Now?  Well, NOW, his once colorful vocabulary has been replaced by the following phrases: “I don’t know” “No” and “This is SO BORING.”  That once bright and cheery disposition has been replaced with eye rolling, deadpan stares, and dragging feet.  In an instant, I have become the annoying after-school special parent.  The perky one whose very existence is such an unbelievable burden that it is nearly impossible to get out bed each morning, put on the clothes she washed, walk down to eat the breakfast she’s made, off of the plates that she’ll clean and put away.

Because Moms are, like, SO LAME.

On the days I pick him up from school, this is the typical exchange:

“Hi, Will!”  I’ll say much too perkily, “What did you do at school today?”

Will is silent.  He cannot speak while within viewing distance of the school. He melts into his seat, clearly pained to be seen. Did you know how difficult it is to like, breathe and stuff??

“Will? Will? WILL? Are you there?” I hate to be ignored.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT I DID AT SCHOOL TODAY.”  He’s working hard to end the conversation before it starts.  I’m not yet convinced.  I mean, he used to just need a little help remembering...

“You don’t remember?”


I wait.  Maybe he needs some time?  Five minutes later…

“Hey Will, did you have art today?”   pause.  “Or English with Ms. Roxanna?”  These are his favorites, maybe he’ll talk about this?

“I.  don’t.  know.”

“Did you…”  Okay.  Now I’m just being silly.  I’m about to ask him if he went skydiving or visited Pluto or watched Dangerous Liaisons or learned about existential philosophy.  Sometimes, it makes him laugh?

“Mommy, do we have to talk? It’s SO BORING.”  That’s it.  He’s made it clear.  He’s not interested in playing my reindeer games.

Then, this morning, as he jumped out of his seat to run into school, he made the teacher pause just a second as he climbed to the front to plant a big kiss, square on my lips.  In front of the school, teachers, friends, and everyone.  If I look a little frazzled today, it’s because I’m still recovering from the shock.

Maybe I’m not so bad after all?  At least, not yet…