At night, he is still my little boy- wanting my love and attention. During the day- his friends are around and he couldn't care and probably prefers me to be elsewhere. We fight. We fight all of the time. It sucks and I cry from time to time (but not in front of him.)
So yeah, he is 12. He looks like he is 12 and he acts like he is twelve. I 'know' this, but my heart doesn't want to accept it. I am so sad and worried and scared. I am sad because I miss his little chubby baby cheeks and how he would lay his head on my shoulder when he was sleepy. I am worried and scared because I doubt my ability to help him to succeed in life. I feel like I have failed him in so many ways. I know- I am not the only parent to feel this way. Regardless of what people say- I still feel responsible for the issues we have had to face with him. I just know I could have done this better. Regret is a nasty bedfellow, isn't it? I just need to move forward. He is a wonderful boy. I know that. I don't think he does though. And that is what I need to change.
|Back in August at the Monkey Park|