As I began making my bed, my son Ethan walked into the room.
“Need some help, Mom?” He asked.
“Sure.” I responded.
He walked over to the other side of my bed and began to help me make the bed.
(Confession: I’ve had the same blanket on my bed for twenty years. I’ve purchased other blankets, but this particular blanket is amazing. My husband bought it in Tijuana just before we got married. It is ugly– it’s brown and has an image of a giant tiger on it (I KNOW, I KNOW. )–but it is soft, it’s warm, it’s basically the best blanket ever made.)
“I love this blanket, Mom!” Ethan said, as we straightened it out.
I then went on to tell the story about how old it is and how much I love it and how I’ve tried to part with it many times, but can’t seem to let it go.
“I plan on getting a new comforter soon and when I do, I will let you have it. Do you want it?”
“Yes!” He said, all excitedly.
Then he paused, his facial expression went from Pure Joy to Kind of Disgusted.
“Oh, maybe not. This is the blanket you and Dad have made love on for twenty years.”
“ETHAN MICHAEL!” I proclaimed, while not making eye contact.
“It’s true, Mom!” He said, as he laughed at my discomfort with the words he was saying.
In my mind, I was all “flip it around on him! Make HIM uncomfortable! Say something like ‘damn right! lots of Jesus Approved Sex has happened all up on that blanket!” But I just couldn’t do it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! You guys were all adopted!”
He laughed, rolled his eyes and walked out of the room to tell his brother about our conversation.
Talking about sex in general with my kids? Easy.
Admitting, discussing that I have sex with their dad? Not so much.
Category Archives: Parenthood
Regular People
“I wish you guys were just regular people and not parents because all parents do is boss kids around.”
-My daughter, 2011
That’s, Like, a Lot of Love. I Think.
This morning I had to make an emergency trip to Target. (Starting my period at the exact same time I ran out of toilet paper= emergency.)
I brought Gabby along, which is always fun. (Will you buy me this, please? BUT I NEED MY OWN DEODORANT! I’M ALMOST SEVEN!)As we were walking down the aisle to buy mommy “Diapers for her blood” (FUN!) my daughter began to profess her love for me in a very loud voice, because she is a very loud talker.
“Mommy, I love you so much! Do you know how much I love you?”
“You love me as big as they entire world?”
“Yes!”
But she wasn’t finished.
“Mommy, I love you more than…”
All of the pretty flowers?
The warm sunshine?
Jesus?
Your favorite stuffed animal?
chocolate cake?
a beautiful rainbow?
“Mommy, I love you more than I love going to the bathroom.”
Making Me Cry
Me and my sister, giving my Andrew kisses just days after he was born and again on his graduation night last month.
Graduation Night.
Last night was an amazing experience.
I expected to cry a lot. I expected to be an emotional wreck. And sure enough, as soon as we pulled into the stadium parking lot, I began to cry. “I can’t believe this is happening.” I said. “Are you crying already, Mom?” My Ethan asked, in a Very Annoyed Tone.
We got out of the car and grabbed our things while Andrew adjusted his tie and put on his cap and gown. I watched him as he made sure everything looked just right. I hugged him before we left to get in line. “Enjoy yourself, Son. Cherish this moment.”
When we entered the stadium, I grabbed a bunch of tissue and stuffed it in my purse. I wanted to be properly prepared for The Ugly Cry.
The proud parents, patiently waiting for the ceremony to start.
The ceremony started. I waited to see my son walking to his seat. “There he is!” I shouted. We all started screaming his name. “Andrew! ANDREW!” We waved and waited for him to look our way. (He never looked our way.)
I didn’t cry.
I asked my mother in law if I could borrow her binoculars so I could watch him as we waited for everyone to be seated. I wanted to see his face. I found him in the crowd. He had the biggest smile on his face which was exactly what I was hoping to see. I felt overwhelmed with pride.
I didn’t cry.
The ceremony started. The principal spoke. The kids cheered. One of the students gave her speech. The kids cheered. Then, they said they were going to begin announcing the names of the graduates. Everyone cheered.
I didn’t cry.
I waited patiently while they called names. When it was time for my son’s row to stand up, I ran downstairs to get a better view for a photo. I saw him in line. I screamed his name, jumped up and down and waved. He saw me, smiled as big as he ever has and waved back.
I didn’t cry.
The women with the microphone in her hand announced his name. I zoomed in and took a shot of his sweet face. I screamed his name. “Andrew! ANDREW! ANNNNDREW!” I wanted him to look my way, I wanted him to wave so I could get a shot of how proud he was. I screamed some more. He never did look my way.
I didn’t cry.
The kids turned their tassels, threw their hats in the air while we clapped and cheered wildly for our boy. I watched and laughed as the graduates went crazy on the field. I thought back to the day I graduated– it was the most thrilling moment in my life. I felt so blessed to be there watching my son experiencing that milestone in his life.
I didn’t cry.
Today, as I reflect on last night, I feel incredibly proud of my son. He had some struggles during his high school journey and there were times I didn’t think he was going to make it. But he pulled through in a big way and HE DID IT.
This morning, I asked him how he felt the day after graduation.
“I feel good.”
“Are you proud of yourself?”
“Yeah, I am, Mom.” He smiled.
“You should be, son. You worked hard and I’m proud of you.” I replied.
“Thanks, Mom.”
I walked out of his room. Closed the door, went into the bathroom, took a deep breath.
And then, I cried.
This Week. Man.
I’m looking forward to the coming week but at the same time, I’m dreading it.
It’s going to be one filled with milestones for my children. There will be ceremonies. Parties. Grad night. Trips to amusement parks.
This is one of the most thrilling, exciting times for my oldest child.
This one of the most emotionally challenging times for me as his mother.
Monday: The last day my oldest child will ever attend high school. The day Ethan will take his last field trip as an 8th grader.
Tuesday: Andrew’s Senior Breakfast in the morning. Andrew’s high school graduation in the evening. (Hold me. Tell me it’s going to be okay.)
Wednesday: Andrew will graduate from Law Enforcement Academy. He will graduate as a Sargent.
Thursday: Ethan’s promotion from junior high to high school ceremony. Gabby will celebrate her last day of 1st grade and officially be a 2nd grader. Later that evening, Andrew will be boarding a bus for Grad night at Six Flags.
Friday: I lay in bed and wonder DID ALL OF THESE THINGS REALLY HAPPEN? What happened to my little babies? WHY IS TIME SUCH AN ASSHOLE?
Saturday: It’s party time. Graduation party time.
My brain hurts just thinking about how much there is to do, how many tears will be shed, how much rejoicing is to be had. How much everything is about to change.
I’ve been thinking of all of the ways that life will be different after this week– In little ways. In big ways. While I was doing laundry this morning, I realized that this summer, I will only be school shopping for two kids instead of three. It’s these little realizations that hurt the heart.
In spite of the sadness that I feel, there is great joy bubbling deep within and I know that it will rise to the surface as I hear my son’s name called on graduation day.
I just hope I get through this week. It’s going to take a lot of coffee and possibly quite a few glasses of wine.
Braids
My daughter has the most beautiful hair.
It is thick, with shiny, golden highlights that sparkle in the sun. And it is long. So very long. (It almost touches her little booty.)
Last night, she asked if I would braid it so that her hair would be curly in the morning. I was THRILLED to do it because she rarely lets me braid her hair. (She hates braids for some weird reason.) I did two French braids as tightly as I could just before she went to bed.
This morning, she ran into my room and shouted “Mommy! Can I take out my braids now to see how curly it is?” She was so excited to see her pretty curls.
I carefully took out each braid and ran my fingers through her thick, wavy locks of hair. As soon as I was finished, she ran to her room to look at herself in the mirror.
She gasped.
“Oh my Gosh! My hair looks exactly like Taylor Swift’s hair!” She exclaimed, proudly.
I have a feeling I’m going to be braiding her hair every night for a while.
Their Mama
The Senior
In just nineteen days, my first born son will graduate from high school.
(If he passes English, but that’s another story for another day OH MY GOD THE STRESS.)
I am in awe of how quickly the years have passed and how quickly the day is drawing near. I have nineteen days to create a scrapbook that will tell the story of eighteen of the most wonderful years of my life with that boy, that young man.. Nineteen more days to prepare myself both emotionally and mentally for the moment when they call my son’s name and he walks across that stage to receive his high school diploma. I imagine I’ll stand up and scream something like “SO PROUD OF YOU, ANDREW!”. And then I’ll sit down and burst into tears of joy. Tears of Sadness. Tears of relief.
Nineteen more days.
When people tell you to cherish each moment with your children because “they grow up so fast!”
Believe them.
Kids Say the Burn-iest Things.
G: Daddy, did you know that Jesus died on the cross for you?
T: Yes. I know that.
G: Do you love Jesus?
T: Yes. I love Jesus.
G: Well, then why don’t you ever go to church?
T: (Thinking of an answer) You know why?
G: Because you’re too lazy?
Ethan, from the other room: Oooooh, Dad. You just got burned by a six year old.