My mom came over to the car and he nearly leapt from his carseat. She happily took him home with her. I now had 50% less children for the evening. Miles was upset that he couldn’t go, and started to cry. Then I explained that this meant we could have lots of fun, just the two of us. And we could bake cookies. He brightened.
We sat (!) at the table and talked over dinner. He told me about his day and that, while he liked the chicken dish I’d made, the toasted almonds on the top had to go. Well, alright! He helped with the dishes and got ready for bed. We made four cookies. Ate them hot from the oven with milk.
He chose three stories. I took my time reading them, asking questions, helping him sound out some words.
"Time to brush teeth!"
What? No feet-dragging; no buying more time by staging a wrestling match. No one to wrestle.
"Momma, did I do a good job?"
"Yes, my love. You did very well! Let me just finish up for you. There you go!"
“What is it, sweetness?”
“I like looking at myself in the mirror.”
This morning I slept until 6:45. Such decadence! Miles came into my room.
“Momma, are you going to get up?”
“Yes honey, I am going to get up in just a few minutes.”
“What will you do?”
“First, I am going to go to the bathroom.”
“And I’ll come with you! Because I bet you’d like the company!”
I think that my boys- Miles especially- will be amazing boyfriends and partners when they grow up. They are so loving and giving. But lately I’ve been realizing that they are only half of the equation. The trick will be finding people who appreciate being adored and who will reciprocate. For me, the adoration function is directly proportionate. I give more, I get more. The more I get, the more I give. And I know there are lots of people like that. What I also know is that people learn quickly to take one another for granted. To me, that is the saddest thing.
I want my boys to learn respect for others. I want them to witness my relationships with my parents, my ex, my future, my friends. To appreciate the power of words, art, beauty and love. To stand for their beliefs. To have the ultimate respect for themselves.
I have lofty goals.
By Seven-thirty Miles is dressed, fed and watching a video when my mom brings Jack home in his pajamas. I thank her for keeping him overnight as Jack runs down the hall to find his brother.
There is a loud whack from the bedroom. Howling ensues, followed immediately by a wrestling match.