Anders had a good mustache going after his grape juice at breakfast this morning (I didn't think to grab the camera at the time). At one point, I looked at him and though, "Egad, he's going to be a teenager before I know it." I also thought, "I hope he's not one of those teenagers that sports a mustache early."
I think one of the hardest parts of parenting is seeing your children grow up. I miss being able to hold the boys and get cuddles back (it still happens, just not as much). It's probably hardest because we realize our own immortality through it--and that we're moving toward it quicker than we'd like.
Of course, seeing children grow up is also the best part of parenting. You get to see them learn new things, explore the world, be creative, come up with new ideas. You get to see all the tiring work and discipline you poured into them come to fruition (hopefully!).
So, somewhere in my mid-forties, I'll have teenagers. Maybe they'll have mustaches (I couldn't grow a good one until after college, though). Mostly, I hope, they're turning into fine young men with strong moral fiber.
Time will tell. Until then, we can only keep plugging away, teaching them what the right path is (and that, for the most part, there is a wrong and right path) and lovingly disciplining them, correcting their path when needed. Patience is a virtue . . .
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