K-I-S-S-I-N-G

090208_134110Rocky got his first kiss yesterday.

He met this little cutie-patootie redhead at his after-school Asperger’s program. He really liked her, but she was “going with” another boy. He was really upset about it (“This is just GREAT; I’m NEVER gonna have a girlfriend!”) but we talked him down from the ledge. Well, The Little Red-headed Girl changed her mind. She likes Rocky now, and he likes her still. It makes sense. They’re both ADHD and AS, so they get each other.

She came over Saturday for a few hours, and then he went over to her house yesterday for a few hours. Her mom brought him back and said, “Ok, I tried not to make a big deal out of this. I ran into the gas station and when I came back out, I saw them smoochin’ in the back seat.”

I was all, awwwwwww, I have to tell his Aunt T (whose response was? “Where’s The Fries?!?! Noooooo!!!”) and we talked a little and they went home. No biggie, right?

Right?

Well, I don’t know. There’s something about this whole thing that’s really weighing heavy on my heart. HunkyDory has had numerous s-e-x talks with Rocky; no problem, if you’re old enough to ask the question, you’re old enough for the answer. We’ve passed our save-it-for-your-wife onto him but also given him a very thorough sex education, so I think we’ve got all our bases covered.

But. There is always a but, and sometimes a butt.

I’m having kind of a hard time with this. As both boys have gotten older and older, I’ve celebrated each milestone as a little more freedom for all of us. Potty-training… chucking those damn car seats… getting their own breakfast… finally being able to go out for a few hours and not have to figure a babysitter into the evening’s budget… all good for them, great for me. The neatest thing is watch these guys go from babies to toddlers into “real people” with their own distinct personalities. This was the first milestone that I’ve hit and thought, ok, whoa… I didn’t see that one coming. Now I’m unsettled and a little scared. This is where the rubber meets the road. I have to step back and hope that he makes his choices according to the way we’ve brought him up.

Maybe I’m having such a hard time because I’m struggling to find a way celebrate this milestone. It’s the first one that I’m not really a part of. My baby boy isn’t one anymore, and I have no way to relate to my man-child’s newfound *gulp* sexuality. Tom will still have some sort of “in” because I’m sure that Rocky will still come to him with big questions. But the fact remains, my confidence in my own role in this new area is sorely shaken. Will he come to me for input? I can just imagine him… “Ewwwwww, MoooOOOooommmmmm!” and I’m guessing that’s a big fat NO.

Tonight, he came over and asked if he could sit with me while we watched 24. I was like, “Um, ok, why?” and he said, “Because I love my mommy” with this really cheesy grin.

I smiled and stretched my arms, and he snuggled with me, his face turned toward Jack Bauer saving the day.

I don’t think he caught me with my stingy eyeballs. If he did, he pretended he didn’t.

God bless the little smoochin’ boogerhead.

Author: Dory

Believer. Wife. Mom. Deaf chick. ADD-addled. Photographer. Graphic designer. Blogger. Guano whacknut. Not necessarily in that order.

3 thoughts on “K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

  1. Awsome Dory.

    I thought as I read your blog that it was my mother who introduced me to the inscrutable profundity of sex. As uncomfortable as she was with the conversation, she did not blink or respond with ‘Ask your father.’ She answered my questions. And as I began to realize in my pre-adolescent haze that I was actually asking my MOTHER about SEX, I pulled away from the precipice of the moment, not her.

    Having said this, I am so thankful your two little boogerheads have you and Tom to model K-I-S-S-I-N-G. A so-called enlightened, self-absorbed megalomaniac who claims to be a parenting expert would dismiss your situation as the natural outgrowth of a cause/effect relationship based solely on the random pairing of random ovum. But I say there is a reason you and Tom are the parents of your particular set of troublemakers; and there is a reason that they are both stinky, busy, thinking with their johnson’s boys.

    Dory, you are teaching these little rodents what a woman is, what a Godly woman is, what a Godly wife is and how they should think about treating the girls/women in their lives. There is no one in your family who is as uniquely qualified as you to teach these things. Maybe you do feel shaken; my God, who wouldn’t? Maybe the megalomaniac parenting expert would arrogantly proclaim complete control of the situation and proceed to guide their children into yet another enlightened trainwreck; the kind of mess usually reserved for the relationships enjoyed by psychiatrists and other mental health professionals. Your role is as solid as it ever was. You are the powerful woman of your house; you are surrounded by males who need you and love you more than you can know. Not many women have what you have.

    You know all this, Dory. As a person with as much credibility as a parent as Nancy Pelosi has as a public servant, the only thing I can really offer you is the observation that your sons are blessed to have you as their mom.

  2. So who kissed who? Is this GIRL a little tramp or what?!?! At least he’s keeping the red-heads in the family! Our hearts seem to reach out to them for some reason. Does the vixen have a name? Hmmm…still skeptical.

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