My son, my baby, my heart will be a decade old in a little over a month. This is hard. Him turning 10 is seriously messing with me and affecting a lot of other parts of my life.
In November I cried when I realized it had been a decade since I told my family I was pregnant. Ten years since my body has stretched and grew with him. Ten years since I knew in my heart that I would never love anyone more than him. Ten years since I wondered what he would look like. Ten years since I had no idea who he would be or what kind of kid he would be. Ten years since I felt the magical movement from within. Ten years since I would never think of only myself again.
I wish I could reflect with tears of only joy in my eyes, but let's be real here, kids are effing hard to raise. The newest "phase" (and I used the word phase with hopes that it is very VERY short lived) has been the most difficult. He gets angry. Angry at me. Angry at B. Angry at himself. I would like to blame it on ADHD, or his long days, or something. I don't think it is a reflection of me. Or B. Or himself. I guess it could be hormones, the beginning of puberty maybe? My baby starting puberty?!?!?! The fuck.
I know my boy is still in there, behind the attitude and the anger. I don't know how to get him to open up to me. Maybe I'm not the person he can open up to anymore.
Handling him turning ten may as well be a mid-life crisis for me.