My house has witnessed the raising of 2 sets of teenagers. One set from the original owner and the second set, us. If the walls in my house could talk, they would have plenty to say about the evolution of kids to teenagers. They would express how much this space has been like a cocoon. Protecting them until just the right time.
As I watch this process, I take in all the tears, laughter and emotions that erupt. Sometimes from myself. As the teens traipse through familiar rooms, they seem more and more detached from memories of childhood. As the softness in their eyes appear more focused now, a determined look. I take hold of old pictures, internalize good memories as I ready myself for change.
The coziness of this house will soon be outgrown. Weekend mornings of snuggles in comforters, tiny giggles and sips of coffee fade replaced by late morning wake-ups, grunts and cereal.
There are times when I feel challenged because I do not recognize the young adults around me. A new form of communication has developed. Gestures, one-word requests and lots of headphone time.
If the walls in my house could talk, they would say not to worry. This is just a phase. The teens are blossoming and ready to spread their wings.