9.13.15 It’s a Boy

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Dear Boy,

In the book series we are reading together, (Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling) a secret map will only show itself to the main character when he says, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”  I think you may have taken this phrase too literally.  Because it has come to my attention, as of late, that your single-handed purpose in this life might very well be to make me crazy – only I have news for you … I am not so easily lost.  You’ll find, that when push comes to shove, mister-handsome-face, I can rightly be as stubborn as you … if not more-so.  Where do you think you got this wonderfully-terrible characteristic from anyway? Let me tell you my darling – it was me.

And so I think it only fair that I tell you a few things you might want to remedy, as you claim daily, to have no idea why I get frustrated, though I am pretty certain I have said these things to you before.  Please, boy … try hard to remember not to climb absolutely everything!  There is no need to make every single step an obstacle course.  Though I appreciate your premature knowledge of the fact that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, you still might NOT want to climb up the kitchen chair, (as it precariously tips, momentarily making my heart stop) to then jump onto the sofa which you have been repeatedly asked not to stand on. And after you make it to that couch – why must you insist on taking your socks off just to throw them in a corner for me to later find?  Will you forever refuse to put them in the laundry basket?  I do not think you capable of spite boy, but I glean a sort of trickery in you that is unlike anything I’ve yet come up against.  Still – I’m not giving up, and there are a few more things.

When you shower, can you please try to take more than three minutes washing your entire body!?!  Your father and I have come to believe that this is not an adequate amount of time, and we aren’t even sure which parts you regularly miss cleaning. Then, when you jump out of the shower, maybe you might make an effort to get dressed in a reasonable amount of time – for as quickly as you shower, is as slowly as you get dressed.  I know and appreciate your “free-to-be-me” perspective on clothing, but my boy you are getting older … and there are just some things your little sister doesn’t need to see.

Speaking of sight, I must say it is quite unfair of you that you use yours against me.  I know I do not have a chance when those bright-blues turn into crescent moons of mischief, and your smile curves only half-way up your face, as if you’re trying to hide what we both already know … that you’re hiding something I will inevitably uncover.  More than likely, you have trapped our cats in the closet again, or taken a toy of your sister’s.  Maybe you took yet another bag of goldfish from the pantry and conveniently “forgot” to ask.  Of course it could be that you’re harboring a secret Nerf war against our dog, pretending not to have any homework (when you know you have some), or are preparing another failed attempt to ask me to play on the iPad.

While you use your pleading eyes well boy, your ears seem more decorative than useful.  I have tried to pretend, for my own pride alone, that something was wrong with your hearing … fortunately or not, I have asked the doctor to check, and you’re perfect. This means that every time I call your name you hear me, but choose not to.  Did it ever occur to you that I do not particularly enjoy hearing myself on repeat?  I know that you have endless things to do and accomplish in your wonderfully-busy year of eight, but I’d love to be on the same team.

I could go on and on my tricky-trickster. and yet I think I’ll bring this letter to a close … because you and I both know how things will go.  You will keep on being every-bit-of-you, and I will be me … and you will try to drive me crazy, and you will succeed.  But there is one thing you don’t know boy, we will always be okay.  Even when I can’t handle you for another second, I could never handle one second without you.

You are a prankster … a lover of jokes and jests, and sometimes – most times maybe – you utterly exhaust me.  But you are mine, and worth each wrinkle in my brow you’ve given me.  It’s true you make me crazy, but I love you way past crazy, and I have since the very moment I was told, “It’s a boy.”

Yours forever,

Mommy

3 thoughts on “9.13.15 It’s a Boy

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