Musings of Mommy Dearest

I vividly remember my first day of 7th grade. Seriously - like it was two weeks ago. I had just recovered from a bad case of chicken pox about two weeks before and still had the red inflamed craters on my face to show for it. I might as well have grown an extra eye in the middle of my forehead for the amount of stares directed at me. I remember a boy I had known since I was about 8 had the gall to ask just what was on my forehead and did I know it was there? Oh, David - you had no idea.

Ahh....the wonderful memories of middle school. And even though it wasn't the ideal first day, (or first 30 days, for that matter) I loved those two years. Forget high school, it was all about junior high. And last week - it was Sebastian's turn.

The thing about Sebastian is, his experience in middle school will be so unlike mine for a variety of reasons. For one, (and the most obvious) he's a boy. For two, (this one is the bigger reason) he's a jock and he's funny and he's handsome and he's got really good hair. (Guess those were a FEW reasons. And Ethan, you'll have to excuse my overuse of conjunctions - I'm only trying to make point here.) But really - hair is a big deal. At least for my boy it is. I actually spent a good part of this morning and the past few mornings since school began, helping him out with it - yunno, actually "doing his hair." I won't go into details as I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate my putting it out there, but let's just say it's a very important part of him. As I gelled and sprayed, encouraging this idiosyncrasy of his, I just hoped I wasn't helping him form some sort of identity with his hair - a la Danny Zuko or something where in the near future he might be caught with a comb in his back pocket or a small can of hairspray tucked into one of the little pockets of his backpack. Not that that would be a bad thing....

But I have digressed. His experience will be different not just because he's a boy or a jock, is cute or has amazing hair. It's because 20 years have passed since I had my experience.

And so much has changed.

Kids have cell phones (with texting and web surfing capabilities), iPods, iPads, stacks of M-rated PS3 or XBOX games, computers and TV's in their rooms....and I'm sure the list goes on. None of this is groundbreaking news; I'm not going to enlighten anyone of the repercussions that will come from all of this endless technological candy that kids have at their disposal day in and day out. That's for another day.

I guess I'm just being a concerned parent with all this "stuff" that's around now for kids to use to hurt one another, gain a little attention, or humiliate themselves. As a witness on Facebook, there are adults that don't even know how to properly act within their social media circles, and yet kids are given that opportunity everyday.

Ultimately, it's every parent's choice when and if his/her kid gets a Facebook account, cellphone, or play violent video games for hours a night after homework is done. I get that, I really do. For a worrier like me, it's a little scary to be entering the realm of all that. He's growing up right before my eyes and I want him to make the right choices whether his friends are or not. I suppose his venturing into 7th grade has made me a little uptight and worrisome.

That's normal, right?

Whatever the case may be, whether I'm too overprotective, or not protective enough, he is his own person. I can drill and plead, cajole and bribe if I wanted to, but in the end, he is his own person. And he's a great person. I should just sit back, parent the best way I know how, and not worry. and not worry. and not worry. and not worry. 7th grade is going to be a great year for him - and I can say that even knowing "things" will happen. He will test his limits. He will make mistakes. He will get in trouble. But that's life - that should be expected; it's as it should be.

Whew! Why have I taken so long to blog? This is like therapy!

I just hope our experiences don't parallel with this next little tidbit -
I had my first real kiss in 7th grade.


yikes.