Mother of the teen

I am now the proud parent of an official teenager. I can feel the weepy tendency lurking around the periphery of my emotional center, which I expected--it's that kneejerk, "but my baby" maternal reaction to a child growing up. But really, he's growing up into such a nice young man. Not perfect, no, but in my (admittedly biased) opinion, he'll make a good man someday. He spent yesterday evening watching election results and discussing politics with my husband and myself. This morning, when the video camera battery finally decided to hold a charge, he performed a retelling of an African folktale on tape to take to school. I expected some nervous umming and fidgeting, but he was not only cool and collected, he was entertaining and amusing (in just the right places). He's smart, he's funny, and he's thoughtful (or at least he strives to be, as he continues to develop an understanding of not being the center of the universe, as children tend to believe). I'm proud of him, and I also just plain like spending time with him.

So, yeah. Happy birthday, my Joe-Bear.

In other news, my new computer is supposed to ship today. Hopefully I'll have it by the weekend so I can work on getting programs installed and files restored. I dug up an old ms for a very young children's story that I wrote in ancient times. In reading it again after several years, I can see that it has promise, but I can also see where it falls flat. The difference between then and now is... that I can SEE where it falls flat. Mostly. I did some revisions to it on Monday, but yesterday I just looked at it and couldn't decide what exactly it needed. My instinct is that I simply haven't spent enough time lately reading children's stories in that age range, and a trip to the library is probably in order, so I can get back into the feel and rhythm of those stories.

The downstairs half bath has a fresh coat of paint and is looking much happier. I got two coats with the roller yesterday, but I still need to do a second coat on the trim. For those of you who have never painted a bathroom before, it's all about trimming and trying to contort your body to get the brush into tight places. Smallest room in the house, biggest pain in the butt to paint. (Those of you who have painted a bathroom before were wincing and shuddering as soon as you heard the words "paint bathroom.")

So, for today: Do that second trim coat in the bathroom, take a shower, make a library trip if time allows. Tonight, it's all about taking Joey to his favorite Mexican place for enchiladas and fried ice cream. And hoping that neither of the boys has as much homework as they did last night.