by Laura Seil Ruszczyk

Created on: July 05, 2009   Last Updated: July 06, 2009

People nod and smile when I tell them the age of my oldest son. He is 14 and I think I finally realized why I get the strange reaction from others. They don't seem to flinch when I tell them that I have a six-year-old son or an 11-year-old daughter. But when I get to my first-born's stats, the reaction is usually the same _ that funny smile.

It is not-a happy smile they give me, but rather a knowing one. I think they are expressing empathy for the roller-coaster ride my husband and I are on while raising our son. Perhaps they are thinking back to their days of raising a teenage boy. They already have learned what I am just beginning to understand - that teenage boys are unique specimens and surviving these adolescent years is both a challenge and a triumph for a mother, son and father.

My son is at the stage in his life where he is trying to assert his independence but still needs our guidance. He wants the freedom to ride his bike the three miles to the center of town, but still needs to be reminded that we require a bike helmet to do so. He would like to be allowed to walk to the local pizza joint after school, but forgets that he needs to earn a little money to finance these excursions.

There have been many milestones in his life we have celebrated or endured. There were birthdays, riding a two-wheeler, breaking his finger and having to endure plastic surgery, learning to read, kindergarten graduation, little league, first home run in summer baseball, three broken arms and arm surgery, school dances and skiing. Now he is getting ready to embark on another challenge - high school. I am excited to see him begin this transition in his life and hopeful that he will find success in his new school.

Sometimes I wonder, however, what he is thinking or planning when he acts in a way that seems far less mature than his 14 years. I sound like a broken record when I ask him to put his dishes away, do his laundry or pick up after himself. He looks at me like I have spoken a foreign language and he cannot comprehend any of it. And then other times he cleans up after himself, gets me a Snapple Iced Tea and sets the dinner table. It is as if I have two children, encased in the same awkward, changing body. Some days I am not sure if I will be greeted with the talkative 14-year-old or the one who sounds like he is grunting and grumbling. When I check with my friends, they confirm that they too have a child in their home that acts in this manner. Teenagers, we are discovering, challenge the entire family system and add both joy and conflict to its equilibrium.

Regardless of how our day begins or ends, I have to work hard to continue to notice the good in my son and point it out. When he tries to go outside in short sleeves when it is cold, yells at his sister or riles up his little brother, he is still my oldest son. We will survive these teenage years and he will learn that he has parents who love him and expect the best from him and for him.

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