When I started this blog I wasn’t sure what or where it would go. I did know that I didn’t want a cutsie pink mommy blog. The web is filled with those already, I didn’t need to add more saccharin to the internet.
However, I have to say I love my kids. More importantly I like my kids. Okay the five year old can be not so likable at times but I’m sure I will like her when she gets over the princess/diva phase. I figure in about twenty years or so she and I will be tight. After she has popped out a couple of her own and knows what it’s like to have someone walk into the bathroom with her every time she needs to pee and stand there and discuss what present she needs to buy for her stuffed animal “Spot’s” birthday. We’ll be laughing over coffee about the whole thing.
Of course if my ex husband continues to request a mullet (hockey hair in MN) when he takes her to get a hair cut we will probably have that moment over coffee in about ten years.
I love my kids and could have filled page after page with cute stories but I’m not really a cute story kind of gal. And the novelty of children wore off for me one hot summer day 13 years ago when my son took a container of Parmesan cheese and Romano cheese from the refrigerator, emptied them both into his Tonka dump truck and then emptied that onto the new carpet and proceeded to drive over the cheese until it was completely and utterly embedded into the carpet fibers. Did I mention it was a hot day? To this day I can’t stomach the smell of Romano cheese.
But I love my kids. Neither one did anything tonight to prompt this blog it just dawned on me that I have a couple of great kids. I like being around them (not in the bathroom). When they go to their dads’ for the weekend I enjoy my freedom, though I hardly take advantage of it. I usually get caught up on all the projects I can’t do (painting) when they (daughter) are around. I catch up on reading and I get to watch TV. But by Saturday afternoon I miss them terribly. Ok, not terribly but I miss them a lot.
I’m not sure if the feeling is mutual however. Yes the daughter is still of the age where she loves me more than anyone, except the dog. And she tells me everyday how much she loves me. My son only does so when he wants money but I know he loves me anyway. But I don’t know if they know how great this little family we have is.
I realized I respected my son when he was about two. I was angry with his father and made the unforgivable mistake of telling my son that his father was a jerk. He looked up at the person who represented everything to him, and told me off. I was so proud of him in that moment and I felt so small and ashamed for the terrible thing I had done. I have never said an unkind word about his dad to him since.
My son and I have had a few difficult times in the last 15 years but they have been few and far between. I credit the fact that he has his own bathroom for our easy relationship. That and he is pretty groggy in the morning when I nag him the most.
I’m pretty lucky.