When I was a kid it was common for me to respond to questions about my age just like the title of this post suggests.
‘Nine going on ten,’ or ‘Eleven going on twelve’ were common responses.
Maybe it was because I remained so short for the duration of my childhood and adolescence. I was always the smallest kid in my class and explains why I was bullied so much. Tiny kids make easy targets.
As I mentioned in my previous post, Little Elvis turned 13 on Mother’s Day. Despite the circumstances surrounding the day and his mother’s behavior leading up to it, he spent a few hours with her in a dual celebration of sorts.
While he was gone, I baked a sorry-looking but fabulous tasting chocolate cake for him.
I had to phone a friend and borrow the 13 x 9 cake pan because mine was too small.
(We obviously don’t do a lot of baking here at the Beach Bungalow.)
Turning the Tide
By the time he came home I’d been online and booked a four-pack of tickets to an Oakland A’s game for next week. I told him he could invite two buddies from school and have a sleeping bag sleep-over that night.
He was ecstatic as he lives for baseball season. Actually, despite appearances, he and I are as serious about the Oakland A’s as we are about the San Francisco Giants.
Sometimes when we walk on the beach, I’ll wear my A’s hat and he’ll wear the Giants hat you see in the picture.
We often get funny looks as the Giants and A’s are Trans-Bay rivals. Think Yankees-Red Sox and you get the local flavor of this intense professional sports rivalry.
On Becoming a Man
In many cultures, turning 13 is a significant turning point in a young boy’s life. Many South American native peoples consider it the age of maturity. Jewish boys celebrate their Bar-Mitzvah and their entry into manhood.
While we’re neither Jewish nor South American, LE is becoming a young man.
Why does it seem that overnight a 13 year old becomes so..uh….‘mature?’
That’s not really the word to describe the changes a boy goes through as he enters his teenage years, but if you’ve survived the teen years as a parent, you know what I mean.
In many ways, LE is mature beyond his years. I think it’s both a special inherent quality a well as a reflection 
of his years spent as a child of divorce.
He’s always had that quality of being an old soul – like his musical tastes (from which he derives his nickname) that include Chuck Berry, Johnny Cash, Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, Creedence, The Beatles, etc.
His maturity is also somewhat like a callous that develops in response to friction over a bony prominence. It’s a survival response. He’s seen and heard way too much that’s caused him pain and suffering.
Sharing the Dirty-Little-Secret
A wise friend, who is also psychologist, recently told me that talking about the experiences of domestic violence and abuse can help put our future path on firmer footing.
For too long, the shame I felt at being the target of domestic violence, and ‘pretty-screwed-up’ as a result, was too much the share publicly. I felt ashamed and wanted to hide my experiences.
I know LE feels this way even now. It will be a long road to recovery for him. I hope I can continue to provide the necessary resources for him in the process and allow him to work through the issues with my patience and understanding as support.
No matter what I do to prepare a safe, loving place to call home, there will always be an element of sadness in our lives. It doesn’t overshadow our daily lives, but it’s there.
Families that have emerged from an environment of domestic violence often have this quality about them. But that’s OK. The more we talk about it, the more we share the dirty-little-secret, the better off we will be.
