Teenager on the Loose

I am the mother of a teenager. I think I sprouted gray hair over night.

Braxton turned 13 today. His birthday celebration started Monday with a family dinner at Texas Roadhouse. Braxton has been begging to go to this restaurant for a long time.

Even though he is 13, he isn't too old to color.

Braxton is a carnivore and Randy and I weren't a bit surprised when he asked to order the half rack of ribs. That's more food than Randy and I can eat together.

In true teenager fashion, he managed to clear his plate. And he still had room for dessert, which he kindly shared with his siblings.

This morning started early. Randy was headed out of town again and we wanted to open presents before he left.

Once again, the teenager appeared when Braxton would have rather slept than open presents.

He requested a marble cake with white frosting. I don't recall being that fussy as a teenager, but perhaps this specificity is also part of being a teenager. I wanted a better picture of him blowing out his candles, but I was too busy holding my hand over McKay's mouth to keep him from blowing out Braxton's candles.

Braxton will be able to drive in two years. He goes on a mission in six years. I was ruminating to my class today that I only have him for six more years and they gently said, "If that, Sister Stocking." Then they kindly reminded me that once they hit high school, they are busy with school, activities, jobs, and friends, and I might get to see him for only a few minutes a day.

I would like to stop time and keep my kids here forever. I would like my little 13-year-old to not get any older (and certainly not any more teenagery). But I'm also excited for what life has in store for them, for him. He has a world full of opportunities, and now, he's one year closer to having them.