Someone help me.
All kidding aside, I am finding it really difficult to believe that I am now the parent of teenagers. I was perfectly content to be the mother of an infant and a toddler. A toddler and a pre-schooler. A pre-schooler and an elementary schooler. Two elementary schoolers. A pre-teen and a teen...you get the picture, but; two teenagers? Not quite sure I'm ready for that.
On the other hand, when those teenagers bring home midterm reports studded with A's and B's and liberally sprinkled with glowing comments from their teachers; it makes the pill a little easier to swallow.
Also, when your newly-teenaged son squeals like a two-year-old upon opening the new iPod that you bought for him, well; age becomes sort of relative.
Happy birthday, Cubby. Which reminds me; whatever will I call you, now? Have you outgrown Man-Cub? are you now...Teen-Cub? Nah.
You'll always be my Man-Cub.