Want to know a secret? Deep down inside, I think I'm a terrible mother to sons. Let me clarify: 'To sons' is the key part of that statement. I am an expert waffle-maker, post-boo-boo cuddler, and raspberry-blower. I'm pretty sure I smell more pleasant than Daddy does. I sing to them while I rock them to sleep.But I am just awful at meeting them on their boyish level. I know, I know... They've got a papa for that, right? Nevertheless, I feel so bad when Gabriel gives me a look of complete defeat when I tell him to stop leaping from one couch to the next. Never mind that he missed and crashed into the hardwood floor a few minutes prior to the directive and required 5 minutes of soothing. I'm ruining his fun. The way he sticks that bottom lip out, you'd think I ruined his life!
... Or when I attempt to twirl Eli around the way my husband does. I heave and strain to flip him around gracefully, and you know how he reacts? He pushes his chubby little arms against me and wiggles out of my hold and waddles off, pausing only to cast me a disgusted look as if to say, "Seriously... Why do you even try?"
And Noah? Well, at least I'm his one and only for now. He blesses me with coos and sweet smiles galore, but someday it will come. Someday I'll be that mom that runs out onto the field during football practice, brandishing a can of Lysol and a tube of Neosporin. He'll scramble away and mumble something like, "Who's Mom is that...? Not mine, dude. Mine's... mine's a ninja warrior!"
It will be bearable, though, so long as I rack up a win every now and then. This afternoon I had a small victory outside of Target with my oldest. We were strolling along through the parking lot and I nagged Gabriel to hurry as I steered him around puddles. I thought to myself, "Man, I am a party pooper times a thousand." And then I stopped, just a few yards from the crosswalk in front of the store. Gabriel looked up at me expectantly, probably thinking I'd chide him for picking his nose (oh yes, I caught you, young man!) But instead, I said,
"Want to see something fun?"
He nodded.
I lifted my size 7 shoe in the air and brought it down -into a puddle- with as much ferocity as I could. I splattered us both.
He giggled.
We jumped up and down, holding hands and drenching our jeans up to our knees. Other shoppers smiled at our display, but nothing compared to the smile he was beaming just for me. Maybe I'm not so uncool after all. Even if I'm not a ninja warrior.
9 comments:
What a great moment you made for him! Those are the things he'll remember.
When I read this the first time, I thought it said that you would run out onto the field with a TUB of Neosporin, and I was going to ask where one even buys a tub of that stuff. Then I re-read and saw that you said tube. So, you're welcome. Now you can console yourself with the fact that at least it won't be a tub, right?
I don't know... If I had a tub of Neosporin, I'd only have to buy it every... oh, 30 years, maybe? That might be worth it ;)
Awww, that's so sweet!! Total redemption there! ;)
Thank goodness for both mommies and daddies... Oh how they balance each other out!
I have to tell you...my husband was laughing while reading this post. You're officially 'in'.
And I loved it too :) I feel like a major party pooper most days, and I have girly girls. I've been trying -- really trying -- to say 'yes' more often. Your foot splashing example inspires me to do even more yessing.
Is that even a word?
I loved this! I also need to say yes more often :).
I'm almost always the kill-joy at our house. But what can I do? Penelope's a climber...I'm sure I'm going to find her on top of the refrigerator one day.
Anyway, good for you! You've inspired me to do a little splashing at my house too. Hey, maybe that'll teach Penelope that there are fun things to do...on the GROUND. Thanks!
The fact that it even occurred to you that you might be a party pooper means you're not! Yay for making good memories!
Don't you just LOVE moments like that? That's great that you were able to let loose and be silly. :)
i am a bad mom to my sons too. I hate sports and i get cold when i go outside... i am alwasy saying ohh lets go back inside and do somethig quiet when they (boys) need to run outside. i am a wimp. I wonder why god me 3 boys all the time.
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