When my oldest was born, I believed he was fragile.

My mothering mantra became, “Is he okay? Is this right?”

I worried and fussed and stewed.

I read all the books and followed all the ‘rules’ and attempted to put him in a gigantic bubble.

Poor thing.

Then along came his little brother.

I was surprised to find when I pulled my next baby boy to my bare chest and wrapped him in newborn diapers and buckled his tiny frame in the carseat to take him home from the hospital…

He didn’t seem quite so fragile.

I’d done all this before!!

I realized my oldest actually WAS okay (so far)…

And I exhaled with relief.

I decided to relax and enjoy the baby stage.

Thank goodness, because this second baby boy???

He was born LOUD and wild and with the littlest dose of extra confidence and charisma.

I couldn’t keep this kid in a bubble if I tried!

My mothering mantra became, “Wow! Look at him go!”

He was constantly keeping up with his big brother.

When Big Brother could run and jump and do tricks off the couch…

Little Brother learned to crawl at five months old and within weeks knew how to cruise along furniture.

(I found myself repeatedly explaining the bumps and bruises on my baby’s head at the grocery store.)

When Big Brother took the training wheels off his bike…

Little Brother insisted his come off too as he learned to ride a bike at three.

When Big Brother headed to kindergarten...

Little Brother wanted to go to school, too.

He marched right into that preschool classroom and folded his little arms across his three-year-old chest in the most self-assured way as he announced, “Hi. I’m Eli!”

I’ll never forget his teacher’s wide smile.

And when Big Brother wanted to play soccer, Little Brother joined right in. On the same team!

I just clapped and cheered from the sideline, “Wow! Look at him go!!!”

Now Big Brother is fifteen.

I would be lying if I said I haven’t worried and fussed and stewed over parenting a teenager…wondering constantly, “Is he okay? Is this right?”

But guess what??

Next week Little Brother will be a teenager, too!

THIRTEEN!!!

Somehow, I’m not worried.

I’ve done all this before!!

I’m realizing my oldest seems okay (so far)…

In fact, teenagers are hilarious and fun and weird and awesome!!

So, I’m just going to exhale with relief.

I’m going to relax and enjoy this new stage with my next teenage boy.

I’m going to watch for whatever new thing this confident, charismatic boy decides to try next.

And I’m going to clap and cheer from the sideline…

“Wow! Look at him go!”