Andrew gets BO and is developing arm pit hair. He rolls his eyes at me and is almost always embarrassed by my presence.
That's what it's like to be 12.
He says mom, with the m drawn out a way to make it clear that I am humiliating him. His moods are extreme and his room is always messy. It is clear that things will be rocky from here on out.
The silver lining? He still spills it all. He tells me stuff that most kids don't tell their mothers. Last week he told me that he almost always feels like his friends just don't get him. He also told me that he might want to someday marry the girl in his class who has nearly as many freckles as him.
This year he wanted grown up things for his Birthday--an iPod and iTunes gift cards, He has an affection for NOFX, the Eagles (tragically), and Kayne West, which may be the most bizarre music combination of all time. Also, he detests the Beastie Boys and anything sounding remotely similar to them.
Andrew wants to be a writer when he grows up which makes me irrationally giddy. He keeps stories in a green folder in his closet. He wrote a story about a lizard king that was pretty darn good. He inhales books the way I wish I had at his age.
I see an astounding amount of potential in him that I cannot wait to watch take shape. I am eagerly anticipating all the little adventures his life is going to take him on.
Happy Birthday to my sweet little man.