Growing Pains

I've been suffering them this summer. Much to Boy's annoyance. 

I've been calling him a teenager, getting his birth date wrong (I know, right. And I was there. All 27 hours of the whole process). 

My Boy is all growed up.

Last Monday, he graduated from the University of Lincoln having successfully secured his BA (hons) in Advertising and Marketing. He's now on the depressing hamster wheel that is the job hunt.

You have to understand, I'm not coping well. 

You'll remember I didn't cope well when he turned 13 and officially became a teenager. I'm not coping well now either.

The thing is, it's a bit of a given that a parent will love their children (or at least it should be), but I like him. I genuinely like him as a person in his own right. I respect his values and I love his sense of humour. He's kind and generous, he's supportive and ambitious. And yes, we drive each other nuts occasionally. 

He's gone from this:

to this:

Could I be any more proud of him? I don't think I could, I'm at bursting point as it is. As he's all growed up, I suppose I'd better refer to him by his grown up name: Rowan.