13

So, my oldest stepson, N, is thirteen. I am absolutely loving watching him go through what he is going through. Except for one thing. The boys actually style their hair these days with flatirons and hairspray, etc. That seems a little much. So, N, wants to grow his hair out. His mom and dad agreed on a sort of compromise. For the summer, he got to keep the bangs long, but had the back shaved into a summer cut more appropriate to his activities (Did I mention he inherited his tendency to sweat after 30 seconds in the sun from his father. Long hair is not great in the summer for people like this) And of course, then there is my rule. No hair in the eyes. Drives me crazy. So, now it's all growing out and swept to the side and is looking rather Flock of Seagullsish.

And, he's loving black. Gone are the must have Abercrombie Ts from last year, replaced by the lone black T shirt he has at our house. An ACDC concert T purchased from WalMarts hip throwback T-shirt line. All this makes me want to hug him more, not less. He is entering the teenage phase, the get away from me phase. And I just want to hold his hand.