My son.
He gives me big hugs.
He is afraid to introduce himself to new people at youth group.
He remembers everyone's birthdays.
He struggles with creating the word pictures in his mind so he prefers nonfiction books.
He loves music.
He struggles with being a teen. He wants to be like everyone else which is a teen thing anyway the struggle seems bigger for him.
He is loyal.
He gets thrown off when someone is seen out of context like seeing a therapist at a store.
He knows his faith so well. He is an awesome altar server and never misses the bells for consecration and he rings them joyously.
He blames me for his loss of weight and slowing of his growth spurt. He says it's because I've made all these appointments that stress him out.
He plays baby dolls with his youngest sister.
He wears a hoodie with pockets on cold days so I can warm my hands while he wraps his arms around me.
He struggles to navigate a social world with so many unwritten rules of engagements. A world where there are too many nuances for him to catch.
This is my son.
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