Musings on 14

Our oldest child turned 14 today.

Honestly, this is hard to process. Because 14 is... almost a grown up.

He is kind and clever. He is a good teacher. He is patient. He has hobbies that he is passionate about. He loves information and has a great memory for random things. He has a very good sense of direction (and makes sure I don't get lost). He has good friends.

I turned 14 when we lived in Latvia. I was in 8th grade, same as our son.

There are moment when he turns into a sullen grumpy teenager. There are moments when he seems so young. 

He is almost as tall as I am.

I had so much more independence when I was his age... I need to give him a chance to be his own person and make his own mistakes. 

I need to give him more space... I have this lingering fear that if I don't constantly poke him (did you do your homework? you need to practice violin! brush your teeth!) he'll never leave his room and just turn into a puddle of goo on his bed. We have a lot in common - and I know that the more people tell me what to do, the less I want to do it... but if left to myself, I'll get things done, eventually (usually... there were times, around age 14, when I forgot stuff and let people down... it was painful but did not force me to be any more organized). I KNOW I need to let go and let him learn how to be responsible for his choices (ie - lack of practice = poor performance)... but I don't want him to suffer the consequences... 

I became a parent 14 years ago - I am learning... Perhaps some day I'll be an expert at parenting... but not yet.