Growing Up

My boys are growing up, and on one hand, I am relieved by their independence in such endeavors as making their own lunch, getting themselves dressed in the morning, taking themselves out to the bus stop.  It's nice that they are now strong enough to help me lift a box or move furniture.  I appreciate that when we play a board game, there's actual challenge there.  When we go skiing or ride a bike - they can keep up, more than keep up - we can fun on that level as equals.  I like all that.  I see how they're getting smarter and stronger along with getting taller, and that's good.  There's a part of me, though, that misses the little ones they used to be.  The little boys who used to get so excited when I came home from work and rush to give me a kiss and a hug.    The boys who wanted to sit on my lap and snuggle to read a book, or hold my hand to cross the street.  I can't remember the last time a boy wanted to hold my hand in public.  When was it?  I didn't know it would be the last time, it didn't even register.  I assumed there'd be more, but there hasn't been more.  That makes me sad.  Santa and the Tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny have moved on from their lives.  The magic of "little" childhood has been replaced by friends and video games and groans and rolling eyes, and shrugs when their mother tries to put her hand on their shoulder.   They're funny now on purpose, instead of saying cute things out of innocence.  They don't remember a time when they would beg for goodnight kisses or to be "tucked in".  They never ask for a night-time "Quinn and Colby" story.  They go to bed on their own, although I'm still making it a point to go into their room and say goodnight.  I'm not ready to give that up yet, even if they are.  

 It's as it should be, I suppose   It's my job to grow them into manhood, and I wouldn't want to stifle that for the world.  But... I can't deny.... I miss the way we used to be, just a bit.  I miss being the person they ran to when they're hurt, I miss them wanting me to kiss their pains away.  I miss being needed by them, even though I know they still need me.  THEY don't know they still need me - they know it all, at nine years old.  So I'll shed my own little Mommy tears without them knowing.  They'd think it was all silly, anyways.  And maybe I'll sneak in at night when they're asleep, and I'll still give them a kiss goodnight, when they can't pull away and flinch.  Because I'll always be their mommy, and they'll always be my little boys, no matter how old or big they get.

Of European Descent

We were having a snack at the kitchen island, the children and I.  Colby, who has been a bit under the weather, was coughing over everyone else's food.  I grabbed his arm and physically made him cover his mouth.

Mom: "Colby, you need to cover your mouth.  You're spreading germs to everyone else.  We don't want to eat your sick germs."

Quinn: "That's Colby, Mom.  He's Germ-Man."

Colby, without missing a beat, says "No, but I'm German." 

he he he.  Yes, there's a little German in there, boy.  And a whole lot of Germ-man.

The problem with twins

There was a dispute over a certain library book that both boys wanted to read simultaneously. Things were getting ugly quick, so Dad intervened with age-old wisdom. 

   "We will do rock-paper-scissors to determine who gets to read the book."  Certainly sounded like a good idea.  Dad had forgotten the resonant brain wave phenomena, though. It took TWENTY rounds before the boys did something other than tie. Freaky. 

Quinn ended up winning by the way. 

Definitions

Quinn: "MOOOOOOMMMM!  Reagan's committing adultery!!!!"
Mom: "Say WHAT?!?!"
Quinn:  "She's flashing her butt at me!"



Reagan.........grrrrrrrr.    That's a little trick she learned from her brothers.

Life Lessons

Reagan: "Mom, I want strawberry juice, but there isn't any."
Mom: "Have water."
Quinn: "Mom, you need to turn this into a life lesson.  Reagan, you can't always get what you want.  Life isn't fair.  Deal with it. "
Mom: "Thanks for that, Quinn."

Firstborn

Picked the kids up from faith formation class this evening.  I asked them what they were learning about.

Reagan: "We learned about the girl who at the apple, but she wasn't supposed to."
Mom: "Oh, Eve."
Colby: "We learned about Isaac and his sons Esau and Jacob."
Mom: "What did you learn about them?"
Colby: "Well, I learned that I am NOT giving up my birthright as firstborn son like Esau did.  You and Dad die, and I'm in CHARGE.  And I get all your stuff."

OK then.  That 2 minutes was very fortuitous, wasn't it?

Stranger in my Bed

5 am and the dog barks as the doorknob to my bedroom turns.  In walks a dark figure of a boy. 
"What are you doing up so early, little man?" I ask.  A voice groggy with sleep answers me.  "I can't sleep".
"Well, climb in bed with me."  He is wrapped in a blanket and he cuddles up next to me.  Is it Quinn?  Is it Colby?  I can't see his face, his voice gave me no clues, so I lie there and listen to his breathing, and how he twitches next to me in his sleep.  Ahhhh, then.  It's Colby. 

It's interesting to me, that I can tell them apart even in the darkest night by how they BREATHE and SLEEP.  A mother knows her child.