12 ... the googly years

This is Drew.  I think he was almost 11 years old in this picture.  I caught this "moment" shot of him when he wasn't looking ... most pictorials I have of Drew are either taken through threats, "Drew, you will smile in this damned picture, or I WILL take away your cell phone."  Or, the pieta' de resistance', "Drew, if you don't smile while sitting on the large ostrich on the carousel at the Zoo, I am SO posting this photo on your facebook page!" 

Admittedly, I am treading uncharted waters here with three boys ... and Drew is the "oops, our bad, we really screwed that one up" new parenting skills child.  I had a sister that was closest to my age.  Girls, I can handle.  That is predictable nonsense.  Girls fight over petty crap, hold grudges, and whine. Of course my sister and I also lapsed into physical violence if the occasion/grudge was so heinous we flew into rages of hair pulling fury. Okay, second thought, grateful for boys.  Boys fight over petty crap too, but it is physical mind numbing screams, lashes, punches, and sometimes, "I hate your gutts!" is thrown into the mix.  But, it only lasts a few minutes, and Jon and I pretty much stay out of it unless someone draws blood.  And even then, it has to be alot of blood, like maybe a trip to the ER alot of blood.  Any less, and we shrug our shoulders and say, "well, you probably deserved it."

Back to Drew.  I love Drew.  As he gets older, our relationship is getting more casual.  His timing is a little "off" on some of his sarcasm, and Jon and I have to pull the reins in if he gets out of control.  It's a, "Drew, you're 12, that would be super funny if you were 18, it's just obnoxious when you're 12."  Drew is not unlike any other googly 12 year-old boy trying to find his place in the world.  His love of all things Abercrombie has changed to Pac Sun (he thinks he is a skater now).  His alliances change in friendships, and he functions in the mean and nasty world we call middle school to the best of his ability.

In order for Drew to tread these heinous waters, I spend alot of time on the phone with "Uncle Josh".  Josh is my only brother, but so many years behind me in age that I was married and out of the house before he was really entering into his teen years.  Uncle Josh provides saavy wisdom like, "Cort, if you
ground him for stupid shit, he's going to keep doing it.  I promise."  "Oh yeah, you should give him a pass on that one!"  Or my personal favorite, "he's a 12 year-old boy Cort, he's going to like girls, even if he doesn't really clue on on what to do with that whole situation." 

Fortunately the situation, which I can only assume means the kissing of the lady friends has happened one time.  Sorry Mom, yes, Drew has kissed a girl.  Of course, this was in New Hampshire, when he was 10 (God help us all) with a little "tart" that was overly aggressive accompanied by a mother who couldn't comprehend WHY I wouldn't let Drew take her daughter on a date.  After all, they were 9 years-old at the time.  That has to be dating age, right?  The kiss was in said "tarts" tree house, and I am sure very romantic.  Gross.

Ahhhh, Drew.  In closing about my 12 year old son, which I hope one day he will read this when his 12 year old DAUGHTER (yes, I jsut cursed him with a mouthy, whiney, hair pulling daighter) is driving him batty, a few one liners/experiences where Drew and I "bond". 

1.  About once a week I drop Drew off at school because Jon ahs an early morning meeting.  On day one of this adventure, as we pulled into the car pool lane, Drew looks at me, scowls, and says, "you better get your I love you's out of the way now before I get out of this truck."  I wasn't hurt, as much as laughing on the inside that he was so concerned my amore' for my son might reach the overly sensitive ears of his possey.  So, as any good mother would do, I sang, repeatedly, before he exited the car, "I love Drew, yes I do!  I love you I love you I love you, yes I do!" repeatedly.  He can't deny I saw a little grin.  As he opened the car door (sure that my singing was over) I squeeled in delight, "Hey, Drew Eldridge, I love you, remember who you are!"  That received a scowl of death.  But, he didn't stab me in my sleep.

2.  Drew went through the drive pharmacy with me a few months ago.  It was a Walgreen's, and the drive up is sort of like a bank drive through.  As the lady asked over the microphone, "can I help you?"  Drew screams back from the passenger seat, "yeah, do you sell weed here, is this a dispensary!?!"  (We live in Colorado, home to legalized marijuana and Boulder (home to over 100 dispensaries at last report) is the town next door.  John Denver wrote rocky mountain high, not becasue of the beautiful rocky mountains, it was in reference to the contact high we all recieve when we open our front doors.)  I told the lady to ignore Drew, as he had missed his medication that day, had tourrette's syndrome, and couldn't be trusted.  THEN, if that wasn't enough, Drew starts squeeling curling into "armadillo position" and rocking back and forth saying, "make the bad people go away, make the bad people go away mommy."  Hells bells.  I was trying not to laugh, simultaneously wanting to beat the hell out of him.  The pharmacist was NOT amused.

3.  While my verbal cues of affection as I drop Drew off at school are not appreciated, I decided this morning I would show him my love through Dance.  As we entered the drive through of the middle school carpool lane, I opened the sun roof, and began to boogie to lady ga ga.  First, the lasso.  Second, the sprinkler.  Third, the "do I hear a fax coming in?!" fax move.  Drew was staring at me in abject horror as I danced my butt off as much as I could strapped down in my seat belt.  I asked Bradyn to join me, but he said his moves required he be out of his seat belt because they were sweet moves.  Drew glared, told me his life was over, (but I swear I saw a grin), and said, "noone, nobody, not one person should see you dancing!"  So, I said, "oh honey, should mommy get out of the car and drop, pop, and lock it?"  He screamed, "what the hell is wrong with you? (we let hell and damn slip from his tongue if the moment requires)  Yeah go ahead, then I will get suspended, and not graduate from 6th grade!"  It was all I could do to NOT exit the vehicle and show my sweet, sweet moves.  He loves me, he knows it.

4.  One day I threatened to back hand Drew.  He was in the passenger seat, being his mouthy self, and I threw my hand sideways in a threatening, "I will do it" sort of way and he flew into a curled up ball and screamed, "ARMADILLO!"  What the heck.  I burst into laughter and said, "that's a new one, is that what you do at school when the 8th graders come around?"  I can't recall the exact words he used, but I think he said something about this being a tactic for survival.

5.  Drew babysits his brothers sometimes.  I must admit, he is a great big brother when he isn't slamming Bradyn's head into the couch, wall, or whatever is closest to the battle.  He really is good with Caden, and it makes me a proud Mom.  One day I had an appointment and Drew was in charge.  It was one of his first in charge moments ... I returned home to find Caden a little "wired".  Then I noticed this strange red sticky substance all over the kitchen floor.  What?  Yes, it was red volt mountain dew.  Drew informed me he gave Caden some out of his cup, and Caden liked it so much he put it in his sippie cup ... twice, since he downed the first sippie so fast.

6.  If you are racially offended, stop reading.  Remind yourself this is the rantings of a 12 year-old with little tact and even less knowledge of being politically correct.  Drew wants a new skateboard.  I told him he had to earn the money for one.  I suggested he mow the lawn every week, and his Dad and I would give him $10/week.  He started squeeling (yes, he squeels, just like a girl), in abject disgust, "yeah right, what do you think I am?  I am NOT a $1 burrito!  I will not mow the lawn for $10/week!"  The $1 burrito comment was a new one I hadn't heard from him.  I'm not sure, sort of, what it meant, I can only assume it is a reference to migrant workers.  Oh Drew.  I informed him he was mowing the lawn anyway, pay or no pay, and the taco stand up the street sold burritos (delicious burritos I might add) for way more than a dollar so he needed new material.

Drew, I love you son and I hope you see 13.  Please remember to keep your grades up because your Dad and I are saving any college money for future therapeutic treatments you will assuredly need in your college years when the world stops making sense and you blame everything on your parents.  A scholarship would be best.