My moonshine.
My beaux jack.
My moon.eyed boy.
My first.born.
James has been in school now for 2 months or so... a very big step for this pre.schooler. A very big step for his momma. Things have shifted some in our little nest to accommodate such Huge Happenings. Some for better. Some for worse, maybe?
When James was 18months old, I can remember him trying a little independence on for size. He could walk. He could talk. He could sneak and demand and make grown people spring into action to produce whatever it was that he wanted in a moments notice.
One day, at wits end, I confessed to my best friend... she laughed and promised me something I will never forget. It was simple. And it's been my parenting mantra every since... Even when I feel like I am losing my grip with towing the line with these boys... about to crash into the Parental.Purgatory- I remind myself of this very important phrase. My friend promised that 'it was just a phase.' Just like a mother who whispers 'it's only a dream' when you wake scared and fitful... I trusted her. I still do. When things get out.of.sync, when I question theUniverse and ponder if alien life form has, indeed, taken possession of my moon.eyed 4yo body, I repeat to myself (sometimes audibly) IT'S JUST A PHASE. Sometimes it's more of a plea. Sometimes it's a battle cry. And sometimes it's proven advice I hand over to other friends who may.or.maynot be questioning their own parental sanity.
IT'S JUST A PHASE
And the thing is, it really is just a phase. SO far, so good!
*knocking on my wooden editing desk*
My boyJoy has gone off to school to learn about the BigBadWorld and every day, at the perfect time, he runs off the school bus and swaggers up to the house wanting water and to talk about his travels. As his mother, and biggest fan, I listen with baited breath, hanging on every.word.
I miss him. I miss our time together. And, like all whimsy.in.love.mothers, I have such high expectations of our remaining day together...
Along with wisdom and experience comes a few side.effects of growing up. At school he has learn how to tilt his voice just right, begging for things. A whine. He's learned to whine as well as any child. He's learned to push, shove, and yank things away if he wants them... Fake crying for things? Nailed. He's learned how to infuriate grown.educated.adults into a tizzy with catch.phrases like: I don't knooooow. I don't waaaaant to. But whhhhhhy? It's like he sees these other children and the cool 'tricks' they know, stuffs them deeply into his pockets and then brings them home to try on for size for Momma and Daddy.
So for the past 8 weeks, we've been steadily undo.ing some of these nasty, yet tempting, social habits. And after we ripped theWhine off, stripped theBully out, stomped theMelodrama down, and scrubbed theBackTalk clean, theHotness and I are totally wiped out.
Nothing thrills me and that man more than being parents... Waking up everyday to meet the crazy needs of raising up our boys and tending our nest. We are steeped deep into this domesticBliss we've created and been Blessed with. So when we see our little chics stray from the nest or act plain.ole.ugly- we ponder the meaning of Life, Love, and Everything.Holy. It's exhausting.
And then I hear a familiar refrain circling around:
It's only a phase.
Then I utter it up in prayer... It's only a phase?
Please, God, let it be.
:)
I love these boys. The ups. The downs. The in.betweens. Everyday we wake up together is pure magic. We work so hard and go without in order to keep me here with these children. I don't want someone else doing this job for me... even though some days I feel that this kind of Courage is faulty and I'm the worst mother on PlanetEarth. This is exactly where I should be. Where I want to be. Where absolute Joy is found. I can't wait for another bebe... and then another, even. As exhausting as bringing up boys can be, there isn't a single place I'd rather be.
Oh James Neal, you've got my heart. Some days, don't squeeze it so hard? Mkay?
Peace, love, and gut.busting.mantras.
xo
lmkw
