My wee teenager.
We are in the thick of it, rolling eyes, crossed arms, humphing. The impatience and impertinence.
It would be more funny if I were less tired, more capable. Hey, I do realize this: this is about doing the best you can. Sometimes that is pretty good, sometimes it isn't, it's awkward and I spend my day uglyfaced, short tempered and unfun. But sometimes, sometimes it is pure magic.
She is immense, people, truly. Immensely herself. All of this will serve her well later in life.
She is immense, and she is encouraging me to become more than I ever imagined.
What an awkward gift that is.
No, I say, No. No a million ways, a million times.
I disappoint. I just do. It's built in. If you told me that I would do this, over and over, knowingly, I would have told you you were crazy, it is * SO UNKATE*.
But here I am.
And however unfun the moments,
however awkward some of the gifts,
however tired my tired ass truly is (it is no longer dragging, dragging indicates motion, and motion indicates energy)
however much I fantasize about sleep or resilience or reserve or calmness in the face of it all
however much I fantasize about whatever it was I fantasized about when I still had braincells
this is so much MORE.
pure magic, with a side of snark.