Twelve meant seventh grade for me, and seventh grade was the year we started middle school. It was also the year that we began to have dances, and people started pairing off with the opposite sex, even if it was still mostly pretty tame. The guys started to get a lot taller, and the girls started to get curves. Twelve isn't a little kid anymore.
Jarrod is already as tall as his mom. He takes more interest in girls and sexual topics than his brother ever did. The other night, he started telling me about the history of condoms. Apparently the first ones were used in the 1500s and were made of linen. It makes me wonder how many of us owe our existence to failed linen condoms.
I don't have any regrets for now that the boys are approaching the time when they will move on. Raising kids is a project, the project of a lifetime, and every step in their progress is a part of the project. I'm sure I will miss them one day, but right now they seem like they are just where they are supposed to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment