showdown at the ok corral

This was not the post I planned but: what a night. The afternoon started off just fine, but Primo is on the threshold of teenager-hood, and sometimes things can quickly get ugly. And get ugly they did, to the point of yelling and tears and privileges revoked and on and on. It has never been so bad, but I know that it will get a whole lot worse before this growing-up thing is over. I called my best friend for courage, and she reminded me to stick to my guns (which were: disrespect is not OK) and commiserated over all the hormonal landmines. As I rubbed the back of my sobbing boy-man later that evening, I thought about how much easier it was when he was little, and wasn't that just yesterday? Then, his needs were simple. Now, they are so much more subtle and complex and, to a large extent, unknown, even to him. This parenthood thing is hard but I have to keep reminding myself that he's got it so much harder.