A follow up to I Just Can’t Be Your Friend: The Teenage Mom’s Version.
Rustic Musings of a Scattered Mind
My son is approaching 18 this year. Don’t get me wrong. He’s funny as hell, but of course he doesn’t say cute things anymore like, “Mommy come wipe my butt,” or “Mommy! I went pee-pee!” I digress. He actually has said these things but in an annoying, sarcastic look-at-me-I’m-funny-and-embarrassing-my-mom way when around his friends. What he doesn’t know is I’m not easily embarrassed. I’m excited he adopted my sarcastic attitude towards life and its comical day to-day happenings. It’s perhaps the only thing that will save him from hating life in the end.
I have a lot of blogger friends. Most of them are “mommy” bloggers, meaning that they blog about their young children and their never-ending hilarious antics. I like that, although sometimes I feel left out because the things my son says and does now happen in such rapid fire succession that for me to blog about each day…
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