Fourteen: the endless age

#1 just shrieked that she had gotten an actual named part (instead of ensemble) in the local city play she auditioned for.  She’s over the moon.  Seeing your kids excited and thriving and enjoying spreading their wings — that’s the moment you feel like maybe it’s all worth it after all.  And this girl — she’s one that has enjoyed an audience pretty much from birth.  This little role is as big as all of life itself.

Tomorrow she has her first choir concert over at Abravanel Hall.  I had to volunteer to come help one of the days, so I’ll be there for the better part of five or six hours… there goes my day.  But it’s a special choir and very worth the volunteering time, which isn’t something I easily admit.

Fourteen (her current age) has seemed to last forever.  Three years at least.  Maybe a decade.  It’s been so draining, so fraught with annoyance, ambivalence, and irrational responses.  I saw one of her drama teachers at the gym on Saturday and we chatted for a while.  It’s so nice to find someone who works hard with teens, loves them so much, and always sees the good in them.  She reassured me that #1 is not just a good kid, but a great one.  And we will survive — are surviving — a tumultuous time, and that’s worth celebrating.

So I suppose we’ll keep trudging along.  What else is there to do?  Fifteen is only three months off.  (What on earth do I do with that?!?)