Whether you’re 40 or 14, birthdays are special
After last week’s column about Andy Chatham’s super-romantic
efforts to wish his wife a happy 40th birthday by plastering her
commute route with signs, Andy wasn’t the only one to receive
kudos.
A couple of female readers told me that they appreciated what I
wrote, even though I was merely serving as the narrator for another
man’s efforts. My wife also appreciated the column, despite
correctly pointing out that Andy’s efforts were way above and
beyond anything I’ve done for any of her birthdays.
Whether you’re 40 or 14, birthdays are special
After last week’s column about Andy Chatham’s super-romantic efforts to wish his wife a happy 40th birthday by plastering her commute route with signs, Andy wasn’t the only one to receive kudos.
A couple of female readers told me that they appreciated what I wrote, even though I was merely serving as the narrator for another man’s efforts. My wife also appreciated the column, despite correctly pointing out that Andy’s efforts were way above and beyond anything I’ve done for any of her birthdays.
I don’t deserve credit merely for being a storyteller, but I’ll gladly accept it.
By the way, Andy e-mailed to say that his wife reading about his sign plastering “only increased the romantic factor.” Like Mr. Romantic needed any more credit.
Speaking of birthdays – and of Andys – my youngest son, Andrew, turned 14 this week. While we did not plaster happy birthday signs along his summer commute route from his bedroom to the living room, my wife did plaster the news on her Facebook wall.
She worked hard carrying that kid for the better part of nine months, so she can celebrate in any way she wants to.
We have now gone through one year of having two teenagers living in our house, which is just double the fun for those who haven’t experienced it. The grumpiness, the hormones, the highs and lows – and that’s just from my wife and me.
While there are downsides to teens, like their mood swings, their laziness and their smell, they also have some positive traits.
I no longer have to lug in the five-gallon water bottles that we have delivered to our front door every couple of weeks. I now have strong sons to do that.
Though they won’t do it without being reminded, my sons will mow the lawn and take out the garbage – most of which contains empty food and drink containers, the contents of which they have emptied into their bottomless stomachs.
My life is now all about teens, from teaching them during the school year to coaching them during the summer to living with a couple of them 365 days a year. They are an intriguing breed, these teens, with their developing brains, sense of style and interest in staying away from their parents in public.
As our youngest turns 14, gone are the days of birthday parties with inflatable jump houses and triangular party hats. Now it’s cake and ice cream in the kitchen while he opens gift cards from Target that he’ll parlay into some video games.
But he’s still a kid at heart. The night before his birthday he told my wife that it was OK to wake him up before she went to work so we could wish him happy birthday.
We did, and he appreciated it, and then he promptly fell back asleep because he had only gotten nine hours of shut-eye at that point.
One month from today my two teens will set foot on the campus of San Benito High School for the first time together, one as a veteran sophomore and one as a wide-eyed freshman.
Dad will be there, in his classroom, hoping that they do their best as they find their way among a sea of other hormonal, hungry, moody teens whose parents are hoping for the best as well.
We parents are trying to hold on while learning to let go. Five years ago my sons were in elementary school; five years from now they’ll be in college. We will celebrate as our milk and cereal bills plummet but stress as our tuition bills rise.
These are the good old days, the best days of their lives, I hope. I’ll forgive my teens in advance for being teens, because I was one of them not so long ago.
Check out Adam’s blog at http://thebreenblog.blogspot.com. He teaches newspaper and yearbook classes at San Benito High School and is a reporter for The Pinnacle. He is former editor of the Free Lance.
