6th Grade Crazy Hair Day...but, really, isn't every day a crazy one when you're in sixth grade?
The adolescent and I have been doing a little Jakeover in his new bedroom.
Apparently, he has not been loving my decorating techniques lo these many years. Apparently, the preppy Nantucket cottage look is not jiving with his inner rockstar/sk8erboi. So madras plaid and denim are out. Black, silver and leather are in. Yes, there are fake fur throw pillows, which have been a major source of envy among younger sibs. (Pictures coming, once we hang the black-out curtains!)
Jake has grown a lot over the past couple months. I think I tower over him by a measly inch, maybe two. When I talk to him now, I am looking straight into those baby blues. Of course, this does not mean we see eye-to-eye on much.
Bedtimes, computer time, chore time, homework time, mealtime, dental hygiene time. All continue to be a struggle of wills. Life with Jake has never been boring.
My mom and I laugh about the day Jake learned to roll over. The absolute moment he discovered that he could actually muscle his way over that bulky left shoulder and GET AWAY, he started to roll like a demon tumbleweed from one room to another. There was no stopping him. I've been chasing after him ever since. He keeps me humble and very tired.
I am proud of the way Jake has handled the big changes life has brought him lately. Not only does he have a new school and new neighborhood, Mother Nature's starting in on a more personal sort of Jakeover.
Loathe to blog about it. After all, what kind of tween-hating mom posts about curly blonde leg hair or tiny little forehead breakouts? Certainly not me! (Even though both make him look quite manly and, if I were a sixth-grade girl and not his mother, I would totally have a major crush.)
I think adolescence is just as thrilling to watch as a baby discovering how to roll over for the first time.
But twice as frightening.