Parker is 17, going on 18.

Parker, you have worn glasses since you were 10, and you have only had 3 pairs. And it’s never been because you’ve  lost or broken a pair.

 (They have just been fashion upgrades.)I mention this, because I think it is the perfect illustration of the kind of kid you are, my sweet P.  You are GOOD.  Responsible.  You just casually take care of shit…but in this super low-key sort of way that sneaks up on me, time after time.

It’s not that I have ever expected any less from you, but, as a perpetually paranoid parent, I guess I’ve always been afraid of being naive.  Like, I have tried to prepare myself for some certain level of screw-up from you, because that’s what teenagers do, right?  They disappoint you! They make poor choices!  They require constant hovering!  The thing is, you just…don’t.  Maybe your grades have taken the occasional nose-dive, but you put in the work all on your own, and get things back on track in time for report cards.  I’m convinced that your room must be a disaster, but really, it’s pretty darn tidy.  I feel certain that you need to be reminded how to be polite and gracious and respectful of other adults, but you don’t.  They like you.  They even go out of their way to tell me so.

Honestly, it makes me feel guilty, Parker.  It makes me feel like YOU might feel like I underestimate you.  And maybe you’re not wrong. But baby boy, you’re just too good to be true.  I never expected parenthood to feel like the path of least resistance, but in so many ways, you have made it feel like exactly that.

Even today, just a few hours ago,  I misjudged your heart.  We had the “typical” family dinner planned to celebrate your birthday, already rescheduled twice because of everyone’s crazy schedules…and one-by-one, our family members had to cancel.  Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins..!  Of course, everyone wanted to be with us to celebrate, but a variety of conflicts, work commitments, and sudden health issues all popped up at once, and we were left as a party of 3.  I assumed you wouldn’t care less.  I assumed you would probably even feel slight relief about not having to “do family” stuff. I even said to a family member that you would only REALLY care if your weekend birthday plans with your friends were cancelled.  But you know what, Parker?  Once again, I underestimated you.  I underestimated your heart.  You WERE disappointed.  You flat-out told me so.  You were looking forward to the tradition, and you were sad that you weren’t going to be sharing this birthday night with those who love you the very most.  And I felt really ashamed that I sometimes try to expect less from you just so that I don’t run the risk of feeling disappointed.  Does that make sense?

So here’s what’s going to happen.  I am officially raising the bar.  I am holding you to the highest standard of young man excellence that I can imagine.  I am going to expect hard work, greatness, success, compassion, and emotional depth from you from now on.  Nothing less!  Because do you know what feels better than simply not being disappointed?  Having even your wildest expectations surpassed.

I love you desperately, Parker Day Boles.  Happy 17th birthday.

(and family birthday party, Plan D, is happening  on Sunday…and we can’t WAIT to celebrate our PBO.)
(but Kung Pao chicken with your mom and your sister was a solid Plan C, and you know it.)

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