Three Teens Under One Roof

boy

Today, my youngest son is a teenager. Where did the time go?

I’ve told the story of the night he was born often: how my ex-husband had trouble backing past the bushes in the narrow driveway, and as he had to pull forward and straighten out for the third time in the wee hours of the morning, a car crashed into the end of our driveway, blocking our access to the road and forcing us to drive across our lawn into the neighbor’s driveway to go to the hospital.

He was born on Super Bowl Sunday the year the Tampa Bay Buccaneers won.

He was a calm baby, but by the time he was nine months old, his first words were “No, go away!” (he was having a bit of a tantrum in Walmart.)

He has always been an independent thinker, a brilliant mind, a builder, and an artist. He is a mathematical genius. He is also stubborn, and can be quite ornery. But he has a soft side, too. When he was little, he carried around a soft pink blanket everywhere he went.

The photo above was taken on a day when I drove him home from school, and, after picking up an Icee for him, he asked me if I wanted to stop and see a really cool banana spider that he noticed each day as he walked to and from school. It was in someone’s front yard, but we parked and walked through a nearby park to get there.

I am very proud of my wild-child.

 

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