Simon, 15

Few things are more concerning in middle age than the passage of time, and the growth of your child represents that more than anything. It's weird. And yet, having a toddler seems like it was yesterday, and having an adult seems a decade off, when it's really just a few years. I don't mean to reduce my kid to a clock, but I can't think of anything that so clearly represents milestones.

Not a lot has changed in a year for Simon, other than everything seems harder than before. High school has been so hard. A combination of the volume of work, and his frequent unwillingness to do it, has made things hard for all of us. It wears on his self-esteem and negatively affects his mental health. And that's all while trying to navigate ASD and ADHD. We still aren't in the right place on the accountability/accommodation ratio, because it's hard to parse out what is legitimately challenging and what is him being a teenager. It creates a lot of despair in our house.

It's not all bad, mind you. He's been showing a lot of interest in the hospitality business, which of course includes theme parks. College or other post-high school options are still a pretty big question mark, and I'm slowly adjusting to the fact that it will ultimately be up to him to choose that path. He does seem to be open to the idea of being a working adult, and I know I didn't get there until I was 16.

My relationship with him continues to be strained, but I see more and more that he understands I am his advocate, even when I'm the disciplinarian. I hate to see him struggle, but I force myself to allow it, and coach him after about why I let it happen. He's hearing from me about why it's important to me that he becomes more self-reliant. It sucks now, but I do think we'll be friends when he's an adult. He looks up to me in certain ways (I hear him talk about me to friends online), and I take that seriously. I just get so frustrated with him, but I'm getting better at expressing it in a way that he can respond to constructively.

With all of this, I just want him to have some happiness as a kid. I don't want him to have my teen years. Simon can be funny and fun to be around, I just wish he could find peers that see it. Another year has passed where he has not found his tribe. I never found mine in high school (maybe I never truly have), and I don't want that for him. That's why it's so important that at least his adult relationships result in advocacy, support and love.

In March, we took our only "real" vacation that wasn't a cruise, visiting Washington, D.C. We were fortunate enough to get the White House tour in advance, and it was spectacular. I took this photo of Simon in the East Room, looking down the main hall. I explained to him that a number of presidents gave historic speeches standing in the very same spot. I think he was marginally impressed.

We took four cruises this year. We keep taking these cruises because they offer him a chance to be autonomous while we can relax. He's always well taken care of by the crew, and especially the youth counselors, even if some of the kids there can be dicks. As of now, he's "graduated" out of the tween club, so it's all Vibe now. He's not really a Disney nerd, but for now at least, he still thinks it's cool when Spider-Man comes around.

As I said, high school is hard. But it was important to see him get middle school out of the way. His support system in that school was mostly excellent, and led by his amazing principal. In fact, she's still helping him out.

The coolest cruise we did included the inaugural stops at Disney's new island spot, Lookout Cay at Lighthouse Point or some awkward name like that. He doesn't really hang out with us much on the beach now, because of the teen activities, but in this case we were sharing a cabana with friends, and he stayed with us. Can you even believe that water is real?

I used to go to a lot of ride openings and media days at amusement parks, but that hobby has faded so much. I'm just not in those loops (see what I did there?) like I used to be. But this year I did get to take him to SeaWorld and ride their new family roller coaster.

Back on the cruise circuit, we took this photo with Kruno from Croatia, who has worked on DCL for more than a decade. We have a photo of Simon with him from 2014, where he very patiently talked to him and helped him get comfortable with the food options. You don't forget that kindness. Simon's a lot taller, and Kruno is a little grayer, but these memories continue to be made. Also, you can see that we still like each other at dinner.

Simon is knocking out his art elective this year by taking tech theater. Here he's helping paint the set for their production of Hadestown. Diana and I found community and belonging in theater when we were younger, and we hoped that the same would be true for him. Unfortunately, it hasn't worked out that way. The teacher is... not optimal... and frankly even the theater kids have found ways to be unkind and exclusionary toward him.

For Christmas, our Seattle counterparts came to visit. When Simon was born there, we thought that he and his cousins would grow up together, but because of the house situation and frankly not great short-term decisions, we ended up moving away. We took a picture of the cousins on a cruise when they were little, and this year we recreated it in our kitchen.

Food is still challenging, which I guess isn't that surprising because it is for me too. But we've slowly opened him up a little to at least new places to eat, even if it doesn't involve new items. And it's kind of nice to get him out and just talk to him, away from school stuff and routine.

While things may not be going well in high school theater, the kid does love to go to shows. In this case, we took him and our Estonian/world traveler friend Kairi to see Mama Mia. I wasn't sure that he'd be into it, but there was enough comedy that he enjoyed it.

Also at the theater, we watched Jurassic Park while the Orlando Philharmonic played the music live. This sort of thing is kind of neat for us, as the movie stretches across generations. He responds to music, often in unexpected ways, and never the things that I would expect. He listens to music constantly.