Joe is 16 Today

   With Joe, still waters run deep. He quietly goes through life doing his thing without much fanfare. Since he doesn't share anything deeply personal or even remotely private with me, I'm left with my observations and a powerful maternal intuition to figure him out.
    Joe is shy about his accomplishments and never toots his own horn so I'll toot it for him. Having played drums for several years, the boy can play a mean set. I'm told by the musicians at the music store that he's the best student they have. The kid is also very good at Jiu Jitsu and kickboxing. Safety Man tells me that our son is a natural at his sport, taking on much bigger, older and more experienced opponents. Grappling with men that far outweigh him with bulk and experience should be intimidating but Joe practises what he's been taught and earns respect  from these big guys.
   It's clear that when it comes to school he's not there to prove anything to us or his teachers. When he was in the 1st grade, I tried hard to persuade him to compete in the school's spelling bee because of his perfect test scores all year. He would have mopped the floor with the other six year old kids and made this mama proud. But no, he refused to spend anymore time at school then what was necessary. Blue ribbons be damned. He does what he needs to do to keep us, his parents content and off his back. He knows that good grades are his ticket to ride - That is to drive - so he's doing very well at the moment.

    My pride in Joe really swells when I watch him with the little ones in the family. He'll sacrifice whatever electronic device he's playing with and hang out with the little buggers when they come jumping. I can barely stand it when I see little four year old Lucy crawl into his lap and lay her head on his shoulders in church. His smile is made from somewhere deep in his soul.
    I want to be very clear on this next point. There's no question that this child of mine is his fathers son. Snidely, I call him "Mini Me", because they drive me bat crazy sometimes. Whenever SM and I have a "difference of opinion", the kid feels free to weigh in. Here's an example:                                           
                                                                           
                                              Me: Let's have chicken for dinner on Sunday.
                                              SM: We just had chicken.
                                              Me: That was turkey.
                                              Joe: Poultry. It's the same thing.
    When SM is away from home, Joe will quickly ask when he'll be returning. He's always checking on his dad. There are disputes between the two of them, don't let me lead you astray, but Joe LOVES his dad and knows how blessed he is to have a father who's very in tune with teenage boys especially when it comes to vulgar bodily functions.

    I mentioned that Joe plays drums but no commentary on him can be complete without mentioning finger drumming. Oh man! He can find a beat anywhere, anytime on/with anything. In the car he beats his hands on his legs. In church he taps his fingers on his head. At the table he taps out a beat under his chair...... you understand, don't you? At least twice a day, everyday, I say pleadingly - Joe, will you please stop tapping. I will miss him terribly when he heads off to college in two short years and will be equally happy to share his prolific tapping talent with others.

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    As I wrap up this bragfest, I  need to add a few other attributes that describe my first born. He's funny, kind, very good at impressions (especially British) and appreciative. He doesn't ask for much. Oh! and one more important thing. He bugs his sister like a pro. I bet he'd say that this is what he does best. I know Lily would agree.
   I hope I did a good job sharing my observations with you. He is one hell of a good kid and I love him to pieces.
                                 Happy birthday, Joe and please drive safely.

                                                   Love,
                                                   Mom