I am childless. How did this happen? And why didn't I see it coming? I was at my daughter's continuation ceremony into middle school when it hit me; I don't have children anymore. I have adolescents. The magic of childhood is over. The wonder of adolescence is here.
Mostly, I wonder what they're thinking exactly.
Not that I really want to know, because I'm pretty sure I could hazard a guess because I was a teenager once too back in the Paleolithic Era. Back when rock didn't require earphones because it was more of a geological reference. Now, despite the uprising of technology that's causing the downfall of social skills, I think the thoughts of teens are pretty much the same. Boys. Or girls. Depending on preference.
However, I did lay out the details of sex for my youngest which we customarily do for our kids the summer before middle school. Extremely awkwardly, for the last time. Thank god. Because I'm positive as much as I don't want to think about exactly what my kids imagine doing with their crushes, they don't want to think about me doing similar things with their dad. I get it, it's gross. I'm still positive my parents adopted me. Except that I look exactly like my dad. But, since all of my kids are actually all adopted, it's actually a semi-plausible self-deception for them.
I prefer not to think about the details.
However, I did lay out the details of sex for my youngest which we customarily do for our kids the summer before middle school. Extremely awkwardly, for the last time. Thank god. Because I'm positive as much as I don't want to think about exactly what my kids imagine doing with their crushes, they don't want to think about me doing similar things with their dad. I get it, it's gross. I'm still positive my parents adopted me. Except that I look exactly like my dad. But, since all of my kids are actually all adopted, it's actually a semi-plausible self-deception for them.
Perhaps I need more self-deception
To hold on to the magic. To a time when they were little and would hold my hand crossing the street. When they smiled at the camera instead of rolling their eyes. When they cuddled up to me when we read bedtime stories together. When they could be easily guilted and bribed into being good so Santa would bring them presents. Back when they could get into museums for free. To a time when they ate less and complained less. Back to when I was their whole world. (Ok, maybe their dad too. Let's say it's 75-25 split for me though.) Back before I had to let them go slowly to experience the world for themselves.
I'm probably crying because I really miss those free museums.
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