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I am officially the mother of a teenager. The first day was flawless and full of special breakfast, a “cold” lunch, a special dinner, cards, singing, small gifts from friends, phone calls from family, and an overnight with his cousin in his own bunk beds.
I know all the days of my living with a teenager won’t be like this – for him or me. I won’t get cocky and think that the bad days will pass me by. Let’s be serious: a working mother like myself cannot be relied upon to make “cold” lunch every day. Why do these kids think hot lunch became a reality in schools? Because, all those years ago, mothers who work inside and outside of the home had vision for a life less hectic. Or, that’s my take on the situation.
What I miss the most as my child grows up is that with each passing day it seems the chance of his having one of those amazingly deep belly laughs diminishes. They’re not gone; they just don’t happen several times a week like they used to. We still laugh together, and he smiles all the time, but now I find myself rating the smiles like I used to rank the belly laughs.
And a few days ago my sister and her band of hooligans gave him a smile that came from so deep inside him I think it even surprised him.
You see, my sister has a concrete retaining wall on her property that faces a park. Yes she has fabulous views and an amazing home, but she also can be the victim of graffiti artists and their “tags”. Tags to me are cheap imitations of the true art that graffiti artists are capable of. Where is the art in painting your signature all over midtown? But I digress….
The morning of my son’s birthday, Casey was tagged. She found out about it via a phone call and immediately knew how to fix it. She became the graffiti artist she always knew she was and “fixed” what was clearly not art. Late in the afternoon, she formed what I will loosely call an “artist alliance” – her mom, her mom’s partner, her daughter, and another 5-year-old – and took her spray paint for a little walk around the block. They painted an amazing and happy masterpiece that celebrated my son’s birthday with a “D” and a “13”.
If you want to see a teenager be happy for a very long time, graffiti a wall in his honor. Hands down, it’s the best gift he’s ever received, and you can see it in his smile.
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