He is indeed 16, as of a few weeks ago.
My first kid is six feet tall. He’s going to learn how to drive. He’s going to take college classes.
And I’m all, “Whoa, this is not possibly happening because I’m pretty sure I’m still in my 20s. Right? Right? No? Oh, well, okay then…..”
(As it turns out, I’m actually 37, which is exactly 16 years older than I was when Joshua was born. Funny how that works.)
You know how when you have toddlers, random people love to rain on your life by telling you that the worst is yet to come, and just wait until they’re teenagers and then you will really be hating life?
Well, I’m here to say that my teenagers (I’ve got two so far) have been at least as delightful as their toddler selves. And usually much more delightful.
I mean, there are some challenges with teens (It’s not like you have to do geometry with toddlers, so there’s that.), but it’s pretty lovely when your children start turning into interesting people that you want to hang out with.
Joshua’s thoughtful, he’s a good big brother to his trio of sisters, he’s kind to small friends and cousins, he’s a great artist, he’s a faithful member of our church band (I’d be in trouble without him!), he loves God, and he still doesn’t think he’s too cool to hang out with his parents.
So. The doomsdayers were wrong.