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Becoming Obsolete

Becoming Obsolete

My son is 12-years old. A turning point in the life of a boy. And the life of his mom. He has peach fuzz and is now a good 3 to 4 inches taller than I am. Where did the time go? I remember when he was 7 months old. That smooth baby face, rosy cheeks, fine, blonde hair. It was so easy for him and for us. Just give him loads of attention, play with him, let him bang away on the piano or some blocks, and he was happy. Well, to a point.My son was never really happy...

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Welcome to Man In Training

We marry them, we give birth to them, but we will never understand them. Men.I find that I look at my son and I just cannot understand what makes him tick. As a double X, I just don’t get the “Y”.But, we love them. How can’t you? We fell in love with and married their dads. And our sons are just miniatures of their dads. In fact, watching our sons grow up give us a little insight into what makes the other men in our lives tick. Honestly, sometimes I just have to shake my head and laugh. Because, honestly,...

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