Life With Boys

Is there such a thing as an unaccompanied adult — or should I refine it to Mother?

At all times whether they are with me or not they are my responsibility, they are Matt’s responsibility also, but in a different way I can’t explain. In the course of a normal day the boys shop for groceries, visit the dry cleaners, put away laundry and dishes (or at least watch the process). They know to go to Dad for couch snuggles and to Mom for milk, snacks and other kitchen related activities.

Even when I’m at work they are with me. I’m the one they call first when there is blood or vomit involved and I’m OK with that. It’s just weird I guess.

Does any woman really consider what it is to BE a Mom when they have the fantasies of being a Mom? I know I never considered how hard it would be to leave them at day care upset and crying. Or how my heart leaps to see that one special grin or hear he plea at the top of the stairs for just one more hug or kiss. Or how much I would ache to have Morgan try to point out something to Tyler at Target to realize he’s not in the back of the shopping cart where he belongs. Should it worry me that Tyler has developed an opinion about what clothes are beautiful and to check if my earrings and necklace match? I’m not going to. All too soon I’ll be long forgotten for GI Joe and video games.

It’s times like these I wish I could talk to my Mom. To get confirmation that what I see is normal and OK. But that’s a luxury I don’t have, so I’ll pour my heart out onto the keyboard instead and know that I’m not alone.