I'm not the first one to write about parenting as falling in love.

And when you're in love, you just want to watch the object of your affection, whatever he or she is doing--drying their hair, unloading the dishwasher, falling asleep on the couch. That's how I feel about Wyatt right now.

Loretta and I got to his practice early yesterday and had a few minutes to watch drills. Later , I asked Wyatt what the drill was called. "Transitions." Isn't that the truth! We had family to meet for dinner, homework to do, the dog to let out, but I could have stayed there all night, marveling at this boy doing his thing, somehow transitioning into a 5'10" curious, earnest, witty teenager who makes me love the world more.


It's shirts and skins
when your sister and I walk in.
After nine offensive rebounds,
you finally make the shot.
i like to think it's because
this mother's heart wants everything
you want, but more.

You slap your teammate's back,
laugh at coach's joke,
take your time putting street shoes on,
forage for your water bottle,
run hands through a new haircut.
You turn thirteen today,
and all I want is to watch you forever.