New Era?
Since Atom's return from camp, 3(!) days ago (Wow. It feels much longer), I've felt like I'm hurtling down an unexpected rollercoaster ride into the next chapter of parenting.
First, he arrived home reluctantly. It was a welcome change from his last return home from overnight camp, where he was miserable and called me every night crying. He had a fantastic time. He moped at home, wishing that he was back at camp. And had a few choice words for me when I asked him to take out the garbage.
"I wish I was back at camp, where there's no mom to tell me to do things."
Yes, eminent sir, it IS nice to be at a place where the entire schedule revolves around your education and entertainment, with a cafeteria to boot.
Since then, we've swung back and forth, between morning time cuddles where I'm reminded that he is still, in many ways, a small boy in an oversized body, and mornings where he tells me "I'm not eating that crap!" and yells at me for not trying hard enough to get him out of bed that morning.
It feels like it all happened overnight.
I'm part of enough Parents-of-Teens groups to know that this isn't unusual and that I can look forward to many more years of jerk behavior. But a small part of me feels stricken. The years where he adored me, and we got along and made each other laugh - are they over? How did they come to a close with so little fanfare and warning? I know there's a light at the end of the tunnel. All the internet groups tell me that age 13-17 are the worst. But a small part of me feels sad that I didn't have a chance to cherish the last remaining rays of Parenting a Child, before I was catapulted into Parenting a Teen.