Boy Howdy's Birthday

 Today, our oldest son turns 13. He's a fine boy. Polite, quiet, funny. He got new sneakers a week or so ago. On Holy Thursday, he said, "Mom, I think I've outgrown my church shoes."  I looked at his feet, and, yep, one could see his toes crowded into the top of the shoe.
"What size are those, Son?"
He looks. "Eight and a half."
The new sneakers are 10's...

This is our fifth encounter with a child becoming a teenager. We've had teenagers since Nin was 13 almost 10 years ago. And we've had at least two of them for eight years. For two or three years, we had four teenaged girls. But in February, when College-in-a-Camper turned 20, the Soprano remained the lone teen. Now, though, we have a new and interesting phenomena, a teen-aged son.  I think this might be a little different from four teen-aged daughters at once.

He's been different from the beginning. He's our fifth child, born after eleven years of marriage. We had this parent thing licked. [Insert big cosmic laughter Hahahaha]. All this required was adjusting to the idea that one needed to be really quick when changing the diapers. No problem.
 Yeah. Right.
A boy is a different critter.
When Boy Howdy was just barely walking, we visited his grandma's house. She was having some construction work done on her driveway. There IT was. A delightful, dump-truck load of dirt.
He took off on all fours across the yard, IT needed to be explored. Crawled on.
We watched, amused and indulgent. The little boy righted himself and sat on the edge of the dirt heap. He sank his little one-year old fists into it. Picked up a handful and let it sift through his little fingers.
We laughed, isn't he cute.
Then, with the lightning speed that only toddlers exhibit, GULP.
Yep. That's right. That stuff needed to be tasted.

That's when I knew for certain: this was to be a much different journey than the one I had been on. No self-respecting daughter would have crawled onto that pile of dirt and certainly not one of them would have EATEN it!
I could see the destruction of block towers and tea parties. Pink was going to fade away into the sunset, replaced by the red of bloodied knees and the green of grass stained knees. Dave's been joined by two younger brothers and the balance of power has shifted to the testosterone side of the scales. (Much to Bud's delight and amusement.) And indeed, pink has faded and life has changed. (Although sometimes, we still have tea-time.)
And it is good.

"I think I will like being a teenager!

Dave loves the snow!

Happy Birthday, David!
I am sure the snow was sent just for you!