Getting rid of my teenage self

I am a particularly sentimental person and now that my son is on the verge of adulthood, well at least according to Jewish tradition, I am almost sprouting sentimentality from my pores.

I’m feeling like on old woman who talks with an aged accent about when her son was just a baby or when, a million years ago, she was just a girl herself who roamed the wilds of Africa, although the wildest place she ever roamed in Africa was the corridors of her high school.

And it’s not just the sentimentality, what’s far more “mental” is that as Little Pencil creeps on to the teenage years I’ve become slightly fixated on when I was 13 myself (where slightly means endlessly). This is possibly the reason I no longer sleep at night or more likely the reason I wake up crying and can’t get back to sleep.

The teens were treacherous years for me and so I worry about Little Pencil entering his teen years although he is as different a child to the child I was as is possible. And his childhood and circumstances are as different from mine as a moose is to a slice of cheese.

I remember having similar worries when we sent Little Pencil to pre-school (I hated pre-school) until my husband reminded me I wasn’t sending him to fight in East Timor but rather to play with other three year olds in a place full of wonder and toys. Little Pencil is extremely lucky to have such a balanced father.

Last night as I sat in the car waiting for Little Pencil I started crying at a song on the radio. Sadly this is not an uncommon occurrence because as sentimental as I am, I am a bigger crier. My tears flowed and my heart ached with such pressure that if someone had come up to the car window they would have thought I was in the clutches of a heart attack rather than just reacting to a song by Eminem.
Are you a patient with prostatitis or female levitra is any of these symptoms progresses or becomes intolerable then seeing a doctor for this seemingly minor problem. After its complete absorption in the blood cheapest levitra stream, it inhibits the enzyme PDE-5 that is responsible for the reduction of the blood supply form the male reproductive organ once the man attains the orgasm. To help you address erection woes in viagra online secretworldchronicle.com the bedroom, pharmaceutical companies have come up with different types of treatments. Their muscle tone fades and, comparatively, cheapest levitra they grow weaker than they were as youngsters.
Eminem is singing a song to his mother in which he apologises for all his anger as a kid and in previous songs and tells her that even though they are estranged he still loves her. It’s heart wrenching.

Maybe it’s the fact that my son is coming of age. It could be that I have been thinking about my own childhood so much, or just that Eminem has such a strong story to tell and I’m easily moved. But I think it’s also because I have had so many of my own mother issues. Issues that I seldom speak of, never write about and my 45 year old self has completely resolved with my mother. To be sure my teenage self still has some pretty major issues.

It was hard for my mother to be a parent at times. I see her struggle clearer now that I am a parent. I went for long periods not seeing her at all when I was a teen. I was full of anger and rage. I guess she was too.

And as my entire family gathers in the same country, city and even room for my son’s Bar Mitzvah in the next couple of weeks I’m desperately trying to stop my teenage self making an appearance. I’m trying to be the grown up and allow my son’s teenage years to be “normal” so that when he sees me crying about a song about a mother and child at war he cries for the story that he is hearing and not for his mother.