Puberty has hit for a second time at my house.
Where have my babies gone?
But thankfully this time feels so much easier. I don’t know if it is the child (Golden Boy is not high maintenance at all) or the fact that this time I am dealing with boy puberty or the fact that I am just a seasoned mother with these things now, but it just feels easier.
Frankly I think the ease has more to do with the first two then any wisdom I may or may not have garnered my first time down the puberty path. Golden Boy is a more open and easy going child then TeenStar. And even when I broach topics that may be just a touch embarrassing to a 12 year old boy he reacts with big open eyes and a “Mooommm. Seriously. I think that is inappropriate for you to talk to me about.” But he smiles. Unlike the one syllable responses and/or tears that have marked the past 3 years of TeenStar’s life whenever any remotely uncomfortable topic has been thrown her way.
And sometimes Golden Boy is sooooooooo open that he will even start a conversation with me about some of those uncomfortable 12 year old boy topics.
Golden Boy: So you know in health class we are talking about all the, you know ,the stuff.
Me: mmhmm (I am driving the car, not paying that much attention because Golden Boy literally talks non-stop when he is alone in the car with you. Non-stop about any topic under the sun)
Golden Boy: So you know what a nocturnal emission is?
Me: Stop breathing. Mild stroke. Must breath again. Do not crash car. Success.
Golden Boy interprets my lack of words as ignorance about the definition of nocturnal emission and not the actual mini stroke I am having while driving through the streets of Providence.
I silently curse my husband for not taking care of this business. For God’s sake I have the two girls. Do I have to handle everything??
Golden Boy: A nocturnal emission is also known as a wet dream.
Me: Right. Yes. I know what it is. ( Maybe a little louder and sharper than I intended)
I am now mentally reviewing all the possibilities of why my 12 year old boy is bringing up the subject of wet dreams with me. There is actually no good possibility. I try to see the positive of the situation and attempt to congratulate myself on being such a great parent that my 12 year old son – my son!- would come to me discuss one of the great developments of male adolescence. But my brain is still not functioning well(because duh mini-stroke) and I can not see any positives to the situation so instead I resume my silent cursing out of SuperHubby. So much easier.
Golden Boy: Well there is this boy in my class and I don’t think really understands what a wet dream is.
Right. So Golden Boy really needs to stop saying wet dream and nocturnal emission because every time he says it I stop breathing and my heart starts beating like 500 beats a minute and I know that not breathing and a heart rate of 500 cannot be healthy. So not healthy.
Golden Boy then goes on to tell a story about how this boy in his class really did not understand what a wet dream was and how the boy kept on making comments in class that demonstrated that he was clueless about wet dreams. I was able to regain some semblance of control long enough to explain to Golden Boy that everyone expresses themselves differently when in uncomfortable situations and that he should cut his friend some slack.
As soon as I had fulfilled my parental responsibilities I cranked up the volume on the radio in an effort to thwart any further conversations about wet dreams/nocturnal emissions.
And because Golden Boy is Golden Boy he totally believed that Lil' Jon's Turn Down for What was my new jam and finally stopped talking.
Finally. Stopped. Talking. I breathed a sweet sigh of relief because as uncomfortable as it was to listen to Golden Boy tell a story about his friend’s misunderstanding of a nocturnal emission it was far better than the alternative.
Will. Not. Think. Of. The. Alternative.