***
The wind whips around and makes the bleachers feel awfully cold today. Look at you out there in your new baseball jersey! My fingers are crossed and I say my silent prayer that you don’t get hurt. Everything else is icing on the cake. A double! I am Happy Dancing! Not that you can see of course. I recall the peer pressure lecture. Don’t worry. I will not embarrass you. It’s a silent dance. It takes place in my heart alone. Game over and the team disbands. I head towards the car. I used to run on the field ten times per game with water and wipes and questions about having to pee. Hugs too! Loads of those. Are you heading towards me? Do I hug you? No – peers might be watching. I pat you on the shoulder and say, “Good game bud!” I’m way overthinking this. Whoa, whoa, whoa!!! Did you just kiss me? “Thanks for coming to my game, Mom. I’ll be home in a little while.”***
When you were a little kid you ran up the lawn. That’s what you were meant to do. As a teenager you saunter up the front lawn with puffed out swagger. That’s what you are meant to do. It’s about growing up. I don’t have to like it all the time. I do have to accept that it will happen with or without my consent. You know what? I may surprise you someday. I’ve decided to adopt a new mindset. The little boy I loved happily came home each day. The grumpy teenager I love begrudgingly so. In the end all that matters is that you still come home and it’s here that I can make all the difference in the world. This piece originally appeared on Her View From Home.
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