By Sandra Ostapowich Now and then, mothers of older teens and young adults at church will pull me aside (apparently recognizing the clenched jaw and dark circles under my eyes, which reveal that my son has been stomping all over my short fuse of tightly-wound last nerves) and quietly tell me, “I remember that age. This, too, will pass.” Really? Are you sure? I’ve survived the newborn phase and the terrible toddler years, and even have managed to get through the early school-age grades. But now, just when I thought I had this mommying thing down, I’ve been truly humbled. Do you want to know who can cut to your…