Years ago, my friend Becky in Texas excitedly announced that her son was “only” smoking pot.
She asked, “What kind of a mom gets excited because her kid is ‘only’ smoking pot?”
The kind of mom whose kid had been doing cocaine and other hard drugs.
She calls this son “Doozy,” as in one doozy of a human being, a challenge to know how to love. Not that she doesn’t love him fiercely, but that she struggles to know how to express that love in a way that helps, not hurts him.