Parenting a Tween

I think this is my most favorite thing about you.

My son,

Today is the first day of summer vacation for you. You are 12 and yesterday was your last day of sixth grade.

On the walk to the car after your day, not one minute into summer, you said, I’m a 7th grader now.

You have always wanted to be older. Bigger. Faster.

You have never had time for little kid stuff.

I’ve noticed as we’ve entered these in-between years, parenting is getting a bit more confusing.

I find myself questioning myself a lot. Wondering if I’m going the right things.

You ask so many questions. And I’ll admit, those are getting more complicated too.

They used to be about dinosaur teeth and digging to the center of the earth.

Now they are about puberty and if your brother will ever talk to you.

Hard hitting I tell you.

The other day I watched you run wild with your buddies. Well as close to wild as I would allow.

You were acting tough. Talking big. Showing off. You were clearly the ringleader.

And I found myself a bit nervous. For when you really are a teenager.

Then I watched you notice a little girl playing near you and your crew. She was no older than two.

She fell. Toppled right over. Huge alligator tears. Skinned knees.