Fourteen years ago, today, my imp was born. Eight weeks early, impatient, wanting to be around people so he could get them to play with him. Shocked the nurses silly: "Normally, babies as early as he was spend all their time sleeping. I hate admitting this, but he's my favorite--he's happy, and wants to play with me."
He was 19.5" long (two inches too long for the preemie footie jammies), and 3 lbs, 13.3 oz at birth. Long, skinny baby. No fat rolls whatsoever, anywhere. His tushie looked like a frog's rear end.
He's been fourteen for two hours, now. He's shooting up--last doctor's visit had him at 5' 2.5," but only 87 lbs. I'm not sure if he's gained weight since then, but I'm pretty sure he's gained some extra height. He can reach the top shelves in the kitchen (I absolutely can't). So, still long and skinny. No fat rolls whatsoever, anywhere. He's still impatient, but is also impulsive, in constant motion (jiggling foot, jiggling knees, twitchy fingers), wants to be around people, and play. He's still usually happy, by default, but is starting in on the moodiness, and the outbursts of random anger typical of teen boys.
His shoulders are broadening, and is developing an Adam's apple, but his voice isn't breaking. Yet.
His room is still carpeted in toys--Legos, GI Joe-type stuff, and Hot Wheels (cars and good-sized track sets). However, he's also got a few snap-circuits sets, and a marble run. He wants more snap circuits, wants to learn more about electrical work, and loves science and engineering stuff.
He isn't really interested in school. Other than band (he's played trumpet since 5th grade, and he's in 7th, now), he's got a solid C average. Which, considering how hard his ADHD rides him, sometimes, isn't bad. Yeah, he's a lot smarter than that, but he just can't focus it unless there's physical stuff involved. Stuff to do with his hands (that isn't writing). And he really, really doesn't test well: he says his mind goes blank when he starts taking one.
He's got some idea of what he'd like to do for a living when he's finished school. And what kind of house he'd like. And car. And...yeah, normal boy stuff.
I'm proud as hell of him, and of how far he's come, and how hard he's fought himself to make it as far as he has on working around his ADHD symptoms, mitigating them, and dealing with life. I'm absolutely certain that he'll find his feet and be okay in the long run.
And, as parents, do we really have the right to ask for more?