My (birthday) boy

Have I ever mentioned what a holy terror this child was as an infant? How the term "incessant crying" was invented just for him? How on the 100th visit to the pediatrician (there just has to be something wrong with him) the nurse slipped me a paper with the child abuse hotline number on it (in case I ever got to the breaking point). I never felt the need to use the number (as bad as I felt for myself I felt even worse for him) but man oh man did I ever come close to that breaking point. I had a 4 year old and a 2 year old and a husband that was traveling for weeks at a time and a baby that never stopped crying. I tried so hard to fake feeling "put together" but I could barely brush my teeth or wipe the snot from my two year old's nose or deal with yet another one of my four year old's pre-pre-school meltdowns ( I want pony tails. NO! I didn't want ponytails!) And you know what the worse part was? All the others moms around me were the real deal. THEY were put together. And they weren't even faking it. I'm sure of it. I wanted to be a good mom. And as terrible and prideful as it sounds, I wanted other people to think I was a good mom. But the terrible truth was I didn't have a clue what I was doing and I knew that other people knew it. There were some very, very dark days. So what did I do you might ask? Did I seek help, or advice or communicate my insecurities and my need for relief? No. That would require humility. And admitting my very worst fear-that I was weak. That I needed help. So I muddled through. On my own. Sometimes clinging to the edge of sanity with my bare, bloody fingertips. It was hard. I wouldn't recommend it. (Going it on your own-not motherhood). But eventually there was light once again. At around 18 months, that little boy of mine finally decided that if being on earth was his lot, he was going to make the most of it. And he has. Almost overnight, Christian went from crying non-stop to talking non-stop. He viewed the world in such a unique way that he had me laughing constantly. (I was sure I would never forget all the funny things he said. How I wish-oh how I wish- I had written them down!) He wanted to know everything about everything. Sometimes his curiosity was down right exhausting. But he was a joy. A non-stop on-the-go chattering joy. Little by little I gained some of my confidence back.

And then he became a teenager.

17 to be exact. As of yesterday. Some things have remained the same. He still has a unique way of looking at the world. He is still curious (but now it's about cars and girls). He still makes me laugh. But the non-stop chattering? I wish.

There have been other changes as well. In me. As in..

Here is my confession for all the world to see:

I don't have a clue what I'm doing.

I don't know how to raise a teenager.

I need all the help I can get.

Does anyone have any advice?

Like how to get your teenage son to do a normal smile for the camera?

17 years has given him more than enough time to steal my heart.

He is on the threshold of becoming an amazing man.

I have no intention of attempting to parent him alone.

I hate that this is blurry because, strangely, I love this shot.

I call it "Portrait of 2 Teenage Boys."

After dinner at Cheescake Factory (Christian's pick) we came back home to the birthday cake I made that everyone was too full to eat except me.

And then-for a special birthday treat-Jordan helped Christian work on his bridge for his Honors Physics class. Interestingly, Christian finally went to bed around 11 and Jordan didn't come up until about 1 a.m.

This morning, as Christian left for early morning seminary, there was a post-it note with $10 attached on the door handle. The note was from his dad. It read:

"Use this money and buy a new bridge kit."

Happy Birthday, Bud.