Diary of a Wimpy Mom

Large is headed to his tour of the middle school today.  I’m not ready.  It makes my stomach hurt to think of my baby going to middle school . . . partly because I want him to remain my little boy, and partly because I remember what a freak show middle school was.

I was so awkward.  My jeans were always too short because I was growing faster than my mom wanted to go jeans shopping.  I had braces … and a haircut that could only be deemed “unfortunate” … and hairy legs because my mom wouldn’t let me shave them.  And the hormones.  Dear God, the hormones!  It was not a good time in my life. 

I don't mean to brag, but I was a size 0.  For about two weeks in 1986.

Anyhoo, this is the conversation Large and I had this morning:

Large:  I have my middle school tour today!

Me:  It makes my stomach hurt just thinking about it.  (It will be important for him to tell his future therapist that he felt guilty for growing up because of how it made his mother feel.  Totally healthy.)

Large:  Why?  I’m excited!

Me:  I want you to stay my baby forever!  I want you to stay in elementary school!

Large:  Mooooom.  I’m gonna go to college.  And meet a pretty girl.  And buy a house with her.  And have kids with her.

Me:  (look of panic.)

Large:  But Medium will still live with you.

Remind me of this conversation in 20 years when my 30-year-old middle child is living in my basement.