Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Junior High aka: 7th level of hell

My oldest son started junior high this year. He loves it. I have flash backs to when I started junior high and I start to hyperventilate, but him? He is having the time of his life. He started playing football this summer and loves to wear his football jersey over a white mock turtleneck with his carefully mussed blonde hair. My son is a jock and is way cooler at twelve years old than I have ever been or will ever be.

Last Friday he had his first "social". For those of you not in the know, that is what they call dances now a days, as if changing the name will make them more innocent or something. Anyway, since my job is to work with junior high and high school youth and educating them on healthy relationships, chaperoning dances is part of my job description. So I get paid to basically stalk my son at dances.

Now, I realize that there comes a time in every child's life where their parents are suddenly "uncool", and I was prepared for that. What threw me is that my oldest son is a total mommy's boy in that he always wants to do things with me and be near me. At home he's practically glued to my side, and even at family events I can't shake him. For his birthday he wanted to spend the day with me! What I'm trying to say is that I didn't think he was at the point where I was a pariah to him. But at the dance I found out differently.

At the dance I saw a boy who looked like my son, but I didn't know this cool, hip, center of attention, and way too awesome to acknowledge his mother boy. This boy wouldn't even bring his girlfriend over to meet me. I had to send another chaperone to snap a pic of him and his little girlfriend. And since she had to leave the dance early, I didn't even notice when she left so I didn't get a chance to go up and introduce myself. And although my husband suggested that I slam her up against a locker and whisper that I'm watching her, I wasn't going to do that! Honest! Even if I kind of wanted to when I saw her fawning all over my baby. Is that wrong?