Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Adolescence, Advice, Children, Communication, Connections, Conversations, Mother, Mothering, Mothers and Sons, Parenting, Teenagers | Posted on 20-08-2013
My son starts high school in two weeks. He starts high school football this week.
He is ready academically. Smart as a whip*, that boy. (*I think that is something my grandfather would say.) He is ready physically. Hello, six pack.
Not sure he’s quite ready mentally. Not sure I am, either.
We stopped by today to pay some fees and bam. If nerves (and excitement) were dollars, we’d have a wad. Yeah, both of us. The school was giant, with sprawling halls. It was also quiet. It’s gonna be a lot different in two weeks, when he may interact with 18-year-old guys with muscles, Abe Lincoln beards, and cars. And 18-year-old girls with attitudes, tight jeans, and good smells.
Yeah, it’s gonna be a big step, socially. Yikes!
I wrote about 20 things I would tell my high school self here. But today, at our favorite lunch spot–where we downed 13 plates of sushi–we also talked about what to expect in. High. School.
High school. It’s one of those foundational building blocks that help form you. You start at fourteen and end at eighteen. This is the transition to young adulthood.
My advice to him kinda went like this:
- Be yourself.
- It’s OK to be smart.
- Try something new (but not drugs).
- Show kindness.
- Try your hardest.
- Raise your hand.
- Be a good friend.
- Fresh breath, always.
- Stay true to your beliefs.
- Speak up.
- Have fun.
- Girls. They are wonderful. Get to know some.
- Join a club or two.
- Take chances.
- It’s OK to make mistakes. Learn from them.
- Don’t bad-mouth others. It always comes back.
- There will be drinking. But call us. No driving drunk.
- Don’t worry about what other people think.
- We believe in you. We are here for you.
- Enjoy the journey.
Yeah, no. We didn’t discuss all of that. That’s far too much talking, what with California Rolls and all.
I savor these lunches (and it’s not just the tasty, savory miso soup). But I savor the time to talk and laugh with my son–and stuff our faces. I look forward to many more of our sushi outings. One sushi roll at a time, one parenting tip at a time.