The Joys of Pre-Puberty

I have finally reached a milestone every young mother dreams of: all four children completely potty trained.


Seriously, if you’ve not experienced the Iron Man Competition that is Potty-Training, then you have no idea how many angelic choirs sang after that opening sentence.

In related news, my oldest son entered junior high school. He’s taller, stinkier, slightly more mature, much more capable, and so freaking hormonal. And his voice hasn’t even changed yet. Granted, I didn’t go through male puberty so I wasn’t entirely accurate in my assumptions of what comes first.

Still, I feel like I now have a teenage girl on my hands (something I do have personal experience with).

Every little thing, visible or not, sets my son off. My helpful question of, “Hey, your English teacher mentioned you might need to turn in some of your work. Can I help you with your essay?” led to a HYSTERICAL, “I CAN’T! I JUST CAN’T! LEAVE ME ALLOOOOONE!”

I am not exaggerating.

Besides the smell and the extra dents in the wall, I enjoy my household of boys. As Erma Bombeck wrote, “With boys you always know where you stand. Right in the path of a hurricane.” She said boys are easier because of that; because they tell you exactly what they think.

With boys, you always know where you stand. Right in the path of a hurricane.

I have a younger brother and his pre-pubescent journey was not so dramatic. I think. Maybe I’d better call my mom and ask because I was a little involved with raging hormones of my own at the time. Sixteen years old is such a lusty time, you know?

I suppose I pictured the pre-teen and teen years with my child as a picturesque coming-of-age story. Not Harry Potter, of course -more like A Day No Pigs Would Die or Finding Neverland. My oldest is a lot like the oldest boy in Neverland, and I just expected he’d suddenly sprout facial hair and finally be able to shovel the driveway in winter.

If we’re being honest here, I’ve more often related my 12-year-old to Ender Wiggins of Ender’s Game. I think I started calling him that around age 2, actually.

And now I’ve got Rapunzel from Tangled. *sigh*

Has anyone else experienced pre-teenagerhood? Do you have any advice for the rest of us?

6 thoughts on “The Joys of Pre-Puberty

    1. No, no. Lord of the Flies is when I talk about ALL my boys.
      And you were supposed to offer advice. 😀 Now I just feel sorry that you have TWO teens.


  1. OH MY GOSH THE POTTY TRAINING ANGELS! It took a year, a f***ing year, to get my twin sons potty trained. Once I could walk by the pullups without grabbing a box, it felt AMAZING.

    My firstborn’s only 8, but I’m already getting some of that “Leave me ALOOOONE!” moments over things like homework and cleaning up. Is it a firstborn thing, maybe? The moment it’s clear they have more responsibilities than the other kids, I think a jealousy banshee rears its ugly head…

    Lovely site! Nice to see someone else tell it like it is without the rose-colored glasses. We love our kids, but they definitely have their hellish elements. 🙂 xxxxxx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. 😀 Ha, ha! I can ONLY tell it like it is, unfortunately.

      I can’t even imagine twins. I was whining about getting mine through one at a time. You need far more angels than I was able to find in my free image search!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. LOL! Hey, we gotta be honest, right? I feel it even more keenly when I’m around the in-laws. My nephew is a little shit–my sons are brats, but that kid is a SHIT. (Any kid who attacks pets for fun is a shit. Period.) My sister-in-law keeps whining about having another baby so her son as someone to play with and won’t bother her as much. Or maybe adopt an Indian baby, because they’re cute.

        Yup, that’s motherhood: demanding more kids so you don’t have to pay attention to the kid you already have.

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s