My Darling Deal,
The world is a flurry of shambles right now. I hate having to explain all the insightful and difficult questions you bring home. I don’t have answers to most of the topics you raise. The age of Trump has in many ways robbed you of your childhood and tender years, and now here you are, a freshly minted teenager. You are a news junkie like me and Mac Daddy. The daily headlines are shattering, but you digest the news like an old soul and use that new knowledge to determine how to make the world better.
They say teenagers can be salty, and I admittedly see sparks of that burgeoning in you. Your independence and feisty spirit have been unleashed. Own it. Be brave. Yet you remain gentle, calm, and compassionate. You are the kind of kid who talks to the new kid at school and invites him to sit with you at lunch. You’re the friend others turn to when they need someone to listen. You’re a son who gives advice way beyond his years. You indulge me in selfies, even when the clock is chiming 10:00 with a couple short hours left of you being a 12-year old. In short, you are a treasure.
You’ve made me a better person, and I fear that my rigid, persnickety, opinionated ways have been a disservice to mothering you. Your kind, gentle soul deserves more of the same. I want what all mothers want for their sons, to grow up to be happy, genuine, kind, thoughtful young men who will be generous in spirit and actions. You are well on your way, despite my parenting missteps. I have confidence in you. I swell with pride when I see you lend a hand to a teacher, laugh giddily with your friends, or simply sit pensively staring out the window as you are wont to do.
Welcome to teenagehood, my baby boy. Your feet are smelly. You’re taller than I am by leaps and bounds. You eat your weight in burgers. Your sweet tooth is insatiable. Your Fortnite devotion is admirable, though you know it makes me crazy. So much lies ahead for you. I hope we have given you the stepping stones you need as you jump onto this milestone.
I love you to the moon and back. And like I said from the second I held you and laid eyes on you, you are indeed Neal the Real Deal.
Love,
Mom