Focus

When I was 13 years old, this is what I wrote in my diary for March 13, 1981:

Dear Diary,

Today one of my friends told me that Darrin wrote Robyn + Darrin in his tablet. So now, if they're right, a boy likes me and I like a boy, but the boy I like isn't the boy that likes me. I wish Ross did like me. Maybe he does. I just wish I knew 'cause I like him very much.

G'night.

If my 13-year-old son kept a diary, his entry for March 13, 2012, might go something like this:

Dear Diary,

Today my parents and I met with the guidance counselor at school to map out a career plan for me. They call it an Individual Learning Plan and it will help me take all the right classes to prepare me for college, plus participate in plenty of community and service projects to build a resume for scholarships and college applications. We discussed lots of assessment tests I've already taken in Middle School -- academics to personality -- and everything points to me using my wonderful math or logic skills. Should be an interesting journey.

Oh, and I think a girl likes me.

G'night.

OK, not sure Carter would word it that way, but you see my point. Anything related to my future -- other than marrying Ross or Darrin -- was far from my mind in 8th grade. It's a different world today.

But that's a good thing.

We felt encouraged after our meeting today knowing our school does emphasize college and career prep -- and doesn't wait until the last minute to get it started. Sure, Carter might want to be a math teacher, architect or engineer, but he doesn't have to decide that for sure right now. Just sort of point his Learning Plan in that direction, focus, focus, focus and refine it as time goes on.

Phew. Can't believe we're having this conversation. I sort of sat there dumbfounded, thinking we could not possibly be talking about my baby deciding on a college in 3+ years. No, that is someone else's kid. Isn't it?

In my defense as a boy-crazed teenage girl, Carter is not necessarily more mature than me at 13. I am sure my son would be writing something similar about the girls -- if he had a diary.

Of course, if he did, I will admit he is smart enough not to let me find it.

He's using his brain for something!