So it seems I really and truly have a teenager on my hands. You know - one who no longer bounds out of bed at the prospect of a new day, but one who requires dragging out by his heels or being enticed out by cutting off the WiFi.
One whose mood can go downhill faster than my bank account in a home wares store, and one who now wants to get on buses and go to places with his friends and leave me at home hyperventilating until his safe return.
I think I am suffering from the 1st child separation symptoms.
It's kind of like the first time your toddler wants to go down the slippery dip my himself and so you stand there hovering and desperately resisting the urge to climb onto the slide and clutch him tight just so you can ensure he gets to the bottom safely.
I'm struggling here people.
I am struggling with the loss of the dependence he once had upon me and the two of us are tugging at the leash. Me holding tightly and him nervously wanting me to let go, and whilst I know it is a perfectly natural path of life, it is one that I just don't know I am all that ready for.
And yet it will happen, ready or not.
I am torn at the moment about this whole freedom thing that comes with brand new teenagers, and my anxiety stems from my own fears of what goes on out there in this big old ever changing world we live in.
My fears tell me that bad stuff can happen to good people, (God forbid kids too) and whilst I know in my head that I cannot allow my own overly anxious concerns to hold him back from living his life, my heart screams at me "Don' let go... Protect him."
I was lying in bed yesterday morning, thinking about how old I was when I first took a 25 minute bus to the movies with friends by myself.... I was thirteen. The same age as my son.
He is a mature kid, sensible and stuff and has been nicknamed Captain Cautious since he was two for the careful way he assess everything. It's not necessarily his choices that I worry about, it is the actions of others and of course the freak random events and accidents that you hear about on the news scares the bejeezus out of me.
I can't help but wonder... has the world changed so much that we need to rethink whether our kids should be allowed the same freedom that we perhaps had at their age, or am I just being completely paranoid?
The fact that he wobbles on the edge of no longer being my little boy, and a kid who is not yet a young man makes it all the harder for me to decide. Heck my heart still does a major thump when I drop him off at school and he blows me a kiss or gives me a big wave and I leave him to disappear into the masses of teens with their too big or too small uniforms.
And there I was thinking that when they got older, it would get easier to let go.
Sweet Baby Cheeses, I was wrong.
Once again my mothering training wheels are back on and I am finding it hard to get my balance.
And so my friends I ask of you;
How do you deal with letting go of the leash, at any age?
Do you think the world has changed so much that we should not grant them the same freedom at the same age that we perhaps did?
Does it get easier with each child?