It's Tough to be a Teen (ager's Mom)

It's Tough to be a Teen (ager's Mom)

A Story by Shelley Holt-Lowrey
"

Boys who grow into men, and what they put their mothers through. (OK! It's probably tough on them too.)

"
I don’t know how difficult it is to be a man truly.  Imagine it 'aint too hard.  The road to getting there sure looks pretty rough though.

I am the keeper of a 13 year old boy who seems to have hit puberty at full gallop, and seems intent on meeting all the attending milestones simultaneously.

My son  has only recently returned from the land of “Mom Sucks” as he struggled to push through the brick wall of masculinity, which required he distance himself from anything remotely feminine.  Sadly, I’m remotely feminine.    At that time, he became closer to his father; a Man.  The same man, I might add, who once left him on the roof of his car in a car seat at the grocery store.  

Though I am gratified that he once again tolerates me, I’m wondering if I wasn’t happier when he and his dad were best buds, and I was the enemy.

My poor boy/man/boy.  His voice cracks, his feet are too big for his legs, his arms no longer fit his torso, and he trips over things like air and vapor all the time.  Some days he wears more Band Aids than clothing.

And he steps on me.  All the time.  At least twice or thrice daily.  How he manages this when one minute he's across the room, the next on my feet is a mystery.  It seems, though that wherever my feet go, his seem to follow close behind.  Waiting.  To mash mine. From the top.  With a really heavy step.   My feet are down-trodden, and quite afraid of him actually.  In fact, my feet and I really look forward to the day he grows into himself.  We will both be happy about that.

Yesterday, he followed me around the grocery store using his cracking voice to try to get me to buy him stuff.  During that short one hour trip, he stepped on my feet no less than five times.  He flat-tired my flip flop twice, and he rammed into me with the shopping cart at least a dozen times.  I look like a battered woman from the waist down.  

Also, he drops stuff.  In preparation for growth I guess, but he drops stuff all the time.  All kinds of stuff.  Expensive stuff, cheap stuff, it doesn’t matter.  He just drops it.  Or it falls to the floor mysteriously.  Sometimes he doesn’t even need to touch something.  Things sometimes just seemingly  hurl themselves to the ground by his mere presence.

Just this morning I was on my way out the door, when I was stopped by the sound of shattering glass.  I sighed, set down my bag and walked into the kitchen to find him staring wide eyed into the fridge, both doors standing wide open, his hands at his sides, and a jar of what was once spaghetti sauce dripping from every surface in a three foot radius.  Broken glass was strewn across the floor - around him, under him, over the entire kitchen floor and well into the family room.  I guess that jar of sauce saw him coming and just threw itself right off the shelf as he opened the door.

As he was barefoot, we gingerly walked him out of the kitchen (him stepping on me only twice) into the bathroom where we could assess the damage, and determine what was blood and what was sauce.  Turns out it was mostly sauce.  One Band Aid did the trick.  I then returned to the kitchen to clean up.  I would have made him do it but truly, I was afraid he would slice an artery.

After donning a pair of shoes, he lumbered back into the kitchen, mashing glass and spreading sauce along the way.  He then did the neatest thing.  He dropped down on one knee (slicing it open with the last stray glass shard of course) and gave me a big ol’ bear hug. Then, in his crackling high/low/boy/man/boy voice he said, “Thanks Mom,  I love you.”

I suppose I can probably put up with squished feet, banged up shins, messy kitchens, flat tire sandals and keeping the Band Aide brand in business for a little while longer.   I mean it’s not like it’s his fault that he’s suddenly morphed into a a big, messy lumbering meat pole.  He’s becoming a man.  The way I see it, it’s kind of a prerequisite anyway.

© 2012 Shelley Holt-Lowrey


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Reviews

Ahhhh...you brought back so many memories for me. Mine is now twenty something, towers over me, speaks deeply, and there are few things better than when he puts his arm around me, pulls me close, and that little boy that was tells me he loves me. Well, a bear hug from him is even better, but he's really strong now. Thanks, Shelley. I enjoy your stories.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Shelley Holt-Lowrey

11 Years Ago

Very glad to hear that as it appears I am once again public enemy number MOM! I suppose I am the sa.. read more
Shimmerbliss/CAF

11 Years Ago

It's just natural. He knows you have those MOM eyes in the back of your head and that is scary for .. read more
Shelley Holt-Lowrey

11 Years Ago

ALWAYS appreciate the words of those moms whose sons have loved to hate then come back to love them... read more
Awe!! This was so sweet.
There's nothing like a mother's love.
Anyways, great story. Very intriguing and descriptive. I liked it.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Shelley Holt-Lowrey

11 Years Ago

Thank you young one. I find it difficult to believe you have
lived for only a dozen or so yea.. read more
KennaLovesJake

11 Years Ago

:)
That's nice to hear. I've been told I'm mature for my age, but I'm really not.
I'm ab.. read more
Oh these stories are great. I love it!

Posted 11 Years Ago


I've heard it said that the two hardest times in a persons life is first, when they are a teenager and second, when they are the parent of one. Welcome to the club and thanks for the memories. -A

Posted 11 Years Ago



Wonderful vignette in mom:son relationship tangle, tumble, agonizingly rewarding, and sometimes, thankfully, just plain fun.

So tenderly written and lovingly conceived. I enjoyed this immensely..!

Nice work Shelley..:)

Posted 11 Years Ago


A real "mom" story! Ya done 'good'!

Posted 11 Years Ago


This was one big flashback for me, especially the tromping of the feet. I remember this stage of development all to well. I'm still associated with things mysteriously exploding in the refrigerator while I'm in close proximity. Hopefully your boy man will completely outgrow that facet of the syndrome. This is another treasured piece of writing that one day will me such a precious piece of mom that your son will treasure. I absolutely loved the "lumbering meat pole" description. Almost peed my pants on that one, but didn't. Did briefly choke on a scone I was eating. Question, if one of your readers does choke to death as a result of one of your humorous outbursts what is your liability?

Posted 11 Years Ago


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EMF
Blissfully funny, and having previously owned one of these models, until I traded it in for a brand spanking new, 'Young Adult' version (With complimentary Grandchild)...I remember it well. And so glad I'm not there any more. But Dollface...Me and Your Lad need a chat. He really needs a word or two from Uncle Faustus is he's going to survive puberty. I'll rattle something off for him.

How good is the writing though, and the story...well, compared to my own....I hate you. Soooo much better. So blisfully funny.

Posted 11 Years Ago


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J
oh. i dunno that i can do this piece justice. what IS it bout mothers n sons, anyway?

i laughed ....... and yeah, at the same time, i cried and wanted to get my son on the phone immediately. you know boys/men/boys will always adore their mothers. and in adulthood [when your feet recover and his scrawny limbs fill out to man-size proportions], that vulnerable and innocent 'tween can still be seen by his mother, no matter how old.

you are a born writer, shelley. every single piece you write is so infused w/shelleyness, you may as well be talkin to me from the driver's seat as you navigate us toward the beach. thanks for a visit back to this time .... this is a keeper. golden.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Yes, your boy is becoming a man (what else should he do?) and he loves you. And that's all good. I didn't have a boy, but a daughter and she means a lot to me. But I wish I had a grown son. The kind of man I hope yours will turn out to be.

Posted 11 Years Ago



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Added on June 13, 2012
Last Updated on June 13, 2012
Tags: sons, moms, teenagers, puberty, humor, satire, flat tires


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