So, last week, my big little dude turned 12.
Twelve. Years. Old.
I don't think it's a surprise to learn that I kinda like this kid. He's going to be taller than his bonus mom by this time next year.
12 is an interesting age. It's a conflict. One second, I am completely impressed with his maturity in one thing or another. For example, I don't remember what we were watching, but something I was watching made me say, "Wow! That guy has some cajones!"
Desmond: "Dad...what are cajones?"
Me: *internal monologue* "Dammit...why is he always listening?"
Me: "Uh...well...it means balls."
Desmond: "Dad...why can't you just say he's brave?"
Me: "Don't you talk back to me Captain Woke face!" *oh, sorry...that was also internal monologue*
Me: "You're right...thank you for correcting me."
Then, 5 minutes later, I'll find him raging, fighting back tears because the dog ate his Lego minifig. One of about 600 of his Lego Minifigs.
He recently became a certified Scuba Diver!!!!
But, roller coasters are too scary.
He's getting straight As!
But, still manages to forget to turn in completed homework.
There is no doubt that he is my kid. He shares many of my traits (laziness, ADD, a desire to play video games when we should be working). But, I remain proud of him. He is doing very well in school, despite the challenges of remote learning. He achieved Orange Belt in martial arts and he remains active in the sport. He regularly texts his grandma (he's better at it than I am). And, he is wonderful with his little brother who ADORES him.
I feel like we are at a pivotal moment in his life. Like this is the last we will see of little Desi. He's going to continue to grow and mature. He's got his pals that he loves to spend time with. In spite of the lockdowns, he still chats up these buddies up regularly. It won't be long before he's driving and staying out late and *GASP* dating.
He's a good kid. We're lucky to have him.