Growing Up, Showering, and Something to Do With Cake

I don't think I give the grade-school-me enough credit.

Conversely, I think I maaaaay give the adult-me too much credit.

I think.

But these later generations have me shaking my head and wondering, "Has our world truly spiraled downward this quickly or was I just the oblivious blondie every joke eludes to?"

I am the oldest of 5 kids. I am 29, the youngest 13. And, people, WE. ARE. TWO. DIFFERENT. GENERATIONS.

My sister, LoriAnn, and I were born 15 months apart. The younger 3 siblings were born 9+ years later. They have no idea of the world Lori & I grew up in. School was different, music was different (well, not so different now, thanks to One Direction bridging the so-pretty-it-hurts boy band gap), and our parents were different.

I can honestly say that makeup, leg-shaving, and having any idea on how to behave in a dating relationship was completely lost on me. So lost, in fact, that they weren't even fully-formed thoughts. I was unfamiliar enough with them that even if my brain ventured that direction, it soon gave up because there was no visible mental path to continue exploring.

And now there's my littlest sister. And we won't address that here.

There are also 2 other generations in my family circus circle: my parents and my own son. It is so unique watching everyone mesh together. Some days, it's like gears in a clock. And some days, it's a like a toddler's first birthday cake - all the pieces are there, but it's a sweet disaster.

I've noticed several similarities between my younger self and Eric's behavior. But because of the different environments we grew/are growing up in, I can also see differences.

I was/am the oldest child, and must endure (said with loooove) the younger beings that followed me. Eric is my oldest/only, but he must endure every single body born before him in the form of my younger siblings. They most often serve dual-purpose for each other; along with being each others' aunt/uncle/nephew, they are also like the extra siblings none of them ever wanted.

Because of this "built-in" socialized exposure, Eric has picked up on quips and retorts and phrases at his young age that would've never graced my lips until years later. Often, this makes for incredulous, hysterical laughter. And sometimes, there is much forehead smacking and/or looks of controlled panic (and let's just be honest here: lots of "Michael!" and his influential, 18-year-old self. Boys.)

A couple days ago, I was sitting outside, wrapped in a blanket, half watching my boyfriend, Sean, and my brother, Michael, attempt badminton, and half trying to read a book. And then I was doing neither because Eric sat down next to me & informed me that he needed to ask me a question.

"Mom, can I bring my blue Nintendo DS on the bus on our field trip?" (His DS is a handheld video-gaming device that Mommy paid lots of money for. The field trip was to Boise...2 hours away.)

"No, sweetie. You know what I always say. I don't want anything to happen to it. You can take the red one, though." (The red one is an older, smaller model...that the ex paid for. Heh.)

It was at this point that I expected the usual protests & arguments because his blue one is newer/cooler/can do things that the red one can't/etc. He did present an argument, but one I wasn't expecting:

"But Mom, you let me take the blue one when I was in kindergarten. I'm a lot more responsible now."

My mouth literally opened and closed, partly because I couldn't possibly believe I actually did allow that, and partly because he was using solid logic and reasoning. And I'm much more comfortable being the I'm-right-because-I'm-the-Mom-and-that's-pretty-much-the-only-card-I-have-to-play-but-darn-it-if-it-ain't-a-good-one parent.

I just ended up laughing...and saying no again.

And then yesterday, I had another glimpse into how this little boy of mine is growing up into...well...a boy, sans the "little".

I gave Eric a haircut and stuck him in the shower. To ensure all the tickly little hairs wouldn't prove torturous later, I stood at the opening of the shower, offering "assistance" verbally (one of my specialties). "Put your head back. No, more in the water. Rub your head with your hands to help them wash off. There's some on your ear. Careful, you'll get water in your nose." You get the idea.

"Mom, you're not going to stand there the whole time, are you?"

*crickets chirping*

"What? Psh. NO. Don't be ridiculous. I'm just going to go stand over...here.....now."

Independence is so not cool.