I've been a mom for 19 years, and I have loved it. My son's birth, and all the years since, were absolute bliss for me. I was amazed by him. I was fascinated with everything he had to say. I should have documented a lot more, as my mom advised me to do, but I was busy being completely absorbed by his very existence. Was it healthy? Who's to say. Given my track record, probably not.
He's in college now, in his first semester, which was, in my college "career," my worst semester. I gained the Freshman 15, two times over. By semester's end, I could only fit into my DAD'S sweats. I had, as has been the case every day since I was about nine, bad hair. And bad chins.
So it is that I so keenly feel his pain as he struggles to find his identity. There is no manual for these dark and hellish days, as your child
