Funny, your kids remind me of mine. I have S25, D24, and S20, but the hard times were when the oldest was 16-22. That's when I never knew what would happen at home. I still don't sleep nights. We got to the point where either my husband or I was awake any hour of the day. We never knew when we'd get a phone call from the oldest that he was stranded, arrested, or injured. And I never understood the bond between the oldest and the youngest, but as wild as the oldest's behavior was, the youngest could understand it and he tried to explain it to me. My daughter, however, spent her high school years locked in her room, and NEVER brought a friend over. She escaped to college, and rarely comes home.
Both sons became good at doing drywall. I always wished that my son would hit a stud and break his hand, but he never did. One of my dialogue pieces at Retrouvaille was about how our house reflected the strife in our marriage --the smashed door and the hole in wall that our son did the day his father was caught having an affair. How we needed to heal the marriage and patch up the house at the same time.
It is hard to be the mother of a son like that. But I never question if my son loves me. He loves. He feels passionately. It has its good and its bad sides.
