The past few months I have watched my eldest son morph into this tall, croaky voiced, opinionated young man. He turned fifteen in August and with that birthday, some one must have given him a box of “attitude”. Who ever the hell that was, I will hunt you down, I will find you, and you will get the box back, shoved up ya BUM! For now though, I’d just like to explain the metamorphosis of this child to adolescent.

A girlfriend tagged me in this pic yesterday on FB.

Insanity, hell yes!

It couldn’t be truer unless I wrote it myself. The back answering, slippery lipped child of mine pushes me (and hubby) to the brink of slapping him into next week, almost daily. He should be two years ahead of us by now… Counting to my usual number 10 has turned into zoning out for at least an hour while he rambles under his breath loud enough for us to hear from in his bedroom, about not being allowed to play LOL (League of Legends) for six hours straight, and that his life sucks and he shouldn’t have to do the dishes or put his clothes away or vac his room and we never let him do anything or go anywhere and he has nothing… Yup. You have nothing my child, really?

Not that long ago he was a gorgeous, well-mannered, funny little human, with a smile as wide as the Murray River. Not much has changed really except for the manners; they turn up when it suits him or I give him the Death Stare or a punch in the arm. He is still gorgeous, more than ever, with a smile that can melt my world when he smiles properly and it’s not the “poo grimace”, which all of his school portraits bare. His kind of funny is still hanging around, although he’s not great with sarcasm and comes off sounding like an arse more often than not. I guess this will come in time.

Some days he drives me round the twist with his incessant pestering about LOL and his boom-boxing while slapping his legs, the chair, the table, pop in a whistle then more bashing and tapping. I’ll admit he actually sounds pretty good sometimes, but it’s always when you are trying to concentrate or listen to the news… his timing has always been impeccable.

He is an ideas man our boy and for Christmas last year, he asked for a push mower and Green Machine. His idea was to mow the lawns, just roll and go… well that stopped after Boxing day and the fucking mower is hanging in the shed. The Green Machine was never going to happen, so after a little white lie about them being out of stock and it being on order for 5 months, he finally says, “okay, I get it Mother”. After some serious and difficult because-we-yell-at-him-all-the-time-and-its-not-a-conversation, conversation we came up with an alternative. A good quality road bike and then there followed the idea he would participate in the Round The Bay in a Day.

With support from his ‘Papa’ and about $3K of eBaying for cycling shit for BOTH of them, father and son (and Uncle) participated in the 135km leg and completed it. Without a single doubt, this day was the proudest day of my life when it comes to my big boy. He set himself a goal and made it happen, with some encouragement. So after they got off their bikes from the ride, his true adolescent-self kicked in and he was the cranky, cantankerous, unreceptive to congratulations or praise, tired and exhausted child that we know. I guess an early start to the day at 4am and burning about 2000 calories over 6 hours will do that to you? Secretly I think he was emotional too but unsure how to handle it. Hard work and preparation paid off and he now has his eyes of the full 230km next year, (maybe lol).

So as I sit here blogging away, guess what? He has grabbed his mower and is mowing the lawn… what the hell? Has he learned ESP too in the past 6 months? Anyway, he’s a great young man who makes us smile aside from the crazy antics he puts us through daily and the calling me “Mother” business. He’s generous and loving when no one is looking, and has a whacked sense of humour.

He is loyal and true even though his mood swings make him intolerable to the people he loves, particularly his little brother who secretly looks up to him while they wrestle on the floor until one of them takes it too far and someone’s knackers end up squished or a fat lip is served cold with a “you jerk!”. We are a normal family of that I have no doubt and I look forward to them becoming grown men with ‘normal’ kids of their own perhaps.  Watching your son grow hairy legs and hearing his voice change daily is something to behold. The darkening over the top lip in readiness for the first shave and hands and feet that just keep fucking growing!

Back to that pic my girlfriend shared. Farting… yeah, it’s rife in our home and dropping your guts while washing the dishes or just walking down the hall way is common and often. Kissing parents on the other hand is NOT. You have to sit on him to get a cuddle or any kind of affection from him UNLESS he feels the need to sneak in a cuddle with his Mumma on the couch and every now and again he seeks his Papa’s closeness so will sit next to the old man because that’s enough.

He will hate that I have blogged about him, and I’ll get a mouth full from him when he reads it, so if you are reading this Mitch. I love you. You’re my big baby who makes me smile even when you shit me. I am proud of you, you’re so smart and thoughtful and have the world at your fingertips if you choose to grab it. While you’re using your fingertips, can you please do the dishes? Ta mate! Mwah!!

Make sure you turn the teapot twice clockwise and once anticlockwise!

Nom