One year later, and I love my boys more than ever. And yet, again, I fear that they might miss the boat on Mother’s Day. So to reiterate, and to amend, here’s what I really want for Mother’s Day
I love you sweet boys oh so very much. And, although I’m sure, your father will force you to make a lovely half-assed card featuring monsters and lasers and a fair amount of poop, and your teacher will make you paint a frame and put a blurry picture of yourself in it, there are other things I want for Mother’s Day. And, if you can’t pull that off, I kinda’ want a Magic Bullet (smoothies are hot right now).
Jalen made me a card more than a week ago that he poured his little heart into. He said it was a pre-Mother’s Day Card and it had a girl and a bear walking into the sunset, hand-in-hand. Every day I appreciate my empathetic, thoughtful son. Someone had to take after me.
My mother bought me my Magic Bullet, because she knows what it means to be a mother, and she knows that sometimes people don’t give you what you ask for. And she knows that if a mother actually, specifically asks for something, she probably wants it very, very badly.
Last Mother’s Day, the boys worked very hard on making me a jewelry box and a necklace out of Lego’s and we went to the Arboreteum to see the lilacs, and it was a perfect day.
Now onto the things I want this year…
- I would like to spend one day in the car without you arguing about what you want to talk about. You might actually have a pleasant conversation if you could just stop fighting about whether talking about Pokemon is annoying or not. (hint: it is)
We’ve improved immensely on this front. But, now I have a new request. Stop trying to piss each other off. Stop pushing each other’s buttons. Stop trying your damnedest to make the other one lose it. The only one that’ll lose will be you (not an empty threat, I swear)
- You could admit that you actually love playing outside. That you love baseball and soccer and playing at the playground. That you’d prefer to be active then to sit in front of a screen rotting your brain.
After the worst winter on record, we’re finally enjoying the outside, breathing fresh air, and being active. And this is why we live in New England, so that we can appreciate the weather when it’s great.
- About those screens. They are not that important. They are not worth your anger, and your frustration and your general whiny-ness when you don’t get to play. Playing electronics are not, and will never be, a priority in this family. Give it up!
The games are harder, more violent, and generally cooler, but somehow the boys have finally, mostly, realized their screen limits. And, they’ve finally wrapped their heads around the fact that I couldn’t give two Donkey Kongs about these games; leave that to their father.
- In fact, please learn, that you will never get your way by whining. You are 9 and 6. We have never given in to your whining. We never will. It is not a functional way to communicate with us. You will not win that fight.
Entitlement, Lack of Gratitude, and General Moodiness have taken the place of whiny. I miss whiny…
I would love for one day for someone to say, “Thank you, Mom.” “We appreciate the effort that you expend on making us happy.” “What do you do what you want to do today?”
- Put your shoes on. Now.
- For the love of god, clean yourself! You are boys. You smell. You must shower, and brush your teeth, and comb your hair.
and pick out your own clothes, and tie your shoes, and clean up your room. It stinks!
- Ask your father. He is sitting right next to you. Watching hockey. Do you not see him? Do you have to walk up the stairs, storm into the bathroom, and ask me for apple juice? Do you?
In fact, don’t even bother asking your father. Get it yourself you lazy bums!
- Now means NOW.
Really, I’m not screwing around. I MEAN NOW!
- We have a routine. We do the same thing every single morning. You need socks everyday; you need your backpack everyday; you need to strap in everyday. Why can you not understand that? And don’t ask me what we have. We “have” the same things we always “have”.
- Enough with the sarcasm. I know you “learned it from watching me,” but my sarcasm is warranted, acceptable, and witty. Yours is annoying.
Try to be less annoying. I get that you’re developing your persona and playing with being a young man, but for the love of god, stop trying so hard. You have plenty of time to grow into yourself and become a charming teenager, don’t rush it!!
- You are not bored. You keep saying that word. I do not think that word means what you think it means.
- Keep your hands off of each other. I know you need to be close to each other and the hours of passing each other in the halls is torture, but STOP TOUCHING EACH OTHER.
- About that…. I know that it’s cool to say that your brother’s a pain. I know it’s not cool to spend every free moment at each other’s side. I know that you don’t want to admit that your brother is your best friend. But, he is. And, he likely always will be. Please stop saying you hate your brother. You don’t.
- Please take pictures with me. Moms aren’t in enough pictures, moms always miss out on the photos. Please let me have pictures with my sons; even if they’re goofy.
Thank you for becoming my selfie buddies. Thanks for squashing together so that we all fit into the frame and hold on to our memories.
- Never stop holding my hand. Never grow to big to cuddle with your mom. Just love me unconditionally; I promise to do the same.
Thanks for letting our relationship grow and change and develop as you do. Thanks for watching movies with me and cuddling on the couch and playing in the snow with me. You can grow as big as you’ll like but you’ll always be my little boys.