This Mother’s Day was particularly sweet for me. It was because I had this realization that at least for today, I am THE woman in the life of four very special boys/men.
For the early part of my life, I dreamt of having ONE man decide that I would be THE ONE for them. The ONE they couldn’t live without. The ONE they wanted to come home to. The ONE they would choose even if Halle Berry were in the same room. Never did I dream that for a time, that ONE boy would become FOUR.
I count Colin in this group with only a fraction of hesitation. It can be a little off-putting when this comment is spoken with unforeseen regularity: “Mom, just to tell ya, I love Daddy more than you.” Or, when he reminds me that he doesn’t like pink and he doesn’t like any girls, even me. But I persevere. Because, one of these days I will stop visibly reacting to these comments and remember that Pavlov’s Law also applies to four year olds.
Even though the words aren’t always there to tell me so, there are other signals that affirm my place of stature in Colin’s world. Smiles that reach from ear to ear. Hugs delivered without inhibition. Eyes that let you know that all is OK again now that you have simply entered the room …. hopefully with a good selection of band aids.
Colin gave me my Mother’s Day gift on Friday. Precisely at the moment we were leaving the house for a night out. Not exactly good timing, but I suppose better than a 6am Saturday wake up call. The gift was wrapped with a card that said “Happy Birthday!” on the front. The “Happy Birthday!” was in quotation marks. I think his preschool teacher was on to him ….. him and all the other preschool boys whose mothers also mysteriously shared a May 13th birthday. When I started to probe on why he made certain color and sticker selections, it was clear that he wasn’t interested in having a protracted conversation on the subject of the card. I suppose it’s only natural to not want to be quizzed about something that took you all of thirty seconds to put together. Those details are hard for anyone to retain. It is the same reason I prefer not to be held accountable for all my Target shopping decisions.
Colin wanted to get to the present. And what I opened was a beautiful garden stepping stone that he had spent all week making for me. When he saw my reaction to it, I thought he might explode with pride and joy. To say he was beaming would be an understatement. It was a similar look he gets when he hits a walk off home run, only better. I wished I could have bottled up that moment so that I could have something beyond words to give him when disappointment, loss, or heartbreak tempts him into thinking that he is alone in the world.
I keep hearing that the inflection point where friends start taking on more importance than parents is around thirteen. As a nine year old, Quinn is definitely taking steps in that direction, but for now I’m still the lady in his life. After a batting slump, Quinn finally had a good hit in this weekend’s baseball game. When he got to third base, instead of shouting to his Dad, his Coach, or his teammates in the dugout, he shouted out to me in the stands: “Mom!, did you see my hit?!” To which I replied, “Yes, Honey, I did!” I know that someday soon he’ll be too focused on the game or too cool to shout out to me. I also know that someday soon, I won’t be the first female face he scans for in the stands. Although it’s probably not too early to stop calling him “Honey” in public.
For Mother’s Day, Quinn gave me two cards – both with FREE redeemable coupons. I wonder if all nine year olds enclose FREE redeemable coupons in their mother’s cards, or if just the ones whose parents are in Marketing. The first coupon was for a FREE breakfast for me prepared by Quinn. Nice, although it would be better if it covered the entire family. The second was for a FREE washing of the dishes. Also nice, but since Brett usually does the dishes – this one will have to be transferable. The third one was for a FREE taking care of Colin and Lawton. No duration or expiration date was mentioned. I plan to save that one for when he is sixteen and use it preemptively. Like when his first friend gets their drivers’ license. The last one was for a FREE playing with my hair for 10 minutes. That’s the one that made me cry. Because he knows how much I like that … and because he knows that if he didn’t say 10 minutes explicitly, that I would completely take advantage of this coupon.
The absolute best part of the card however was a note that was carefully erased, but still legible. This is what it said: “If you want more free things, contact me at quinnballbach@comcast.net.” I’m still laughing about this one and wondering why exactly he erased it. He must have concluded that since we live in the same house, that I could probably find other ways beyond email to contact him. Or, he might have been worried about other FREE things I might ask for. Then again, maybe he simply felt that four coupons was a pretty good showing for just one Mother’s Day. I can’t disagree.
Lawton then gave me my final gift of the night. He fell asleep on my chest after a long and fun filled weekend. And I didn’t even have to lift up my shirt for that one.
For the early part of my life, I dreamt of having ONE man decide that I would be THE ONE for them. The ONE they couldn’t live without. The ONE they wanted to come home to. The ONE they would choose even if Halle Berry were in the same room. Never did I dream that for a time, that ONE boy would become FOUR.
I count Colin in this group with only a fraction of hesitation. It can be a little off-putting when this comment is spoken with unforeseen regularity: “Mom, just to tell ya, I love Daddy more than you.” Or, when he reminds me that he doesn’t like pink and he doesn’t like any girls, even me. But I persevere. Because, one of these days I will stop visibly reacting to these comments and remember that Pavlov’s Law also applies to four year olds.
Even though the words aren’t always there to tell me so, there are other signals that affirm my place of stature in Colin’s world. Smiles that reach from ear to ear. Hugs delivered without inhibition. Eyes that let you know that all is OK again now that you have simply entered the room …. hopefully with a good selection of band aids.
Colin gave me my Mother’s Day gift on Friday. Precisely at the moment we were leaving the house for a night out. Not exactly good timing, but I suppose better than a 6am Saturday wake up call. The gift was wrapped with a card that said “Happy Birthday!” on the front. The “Happy Birthday!” was in quotation marks. I think his preschool teacher was on to him ….. him and all the other preschool boys whose mothers also mysteriously shared a May 13th birthday. When I started to probe on why he made certain color and sticker selections, it was clear that he wasn’t interested in having a protracted conversation on the subject of the card. I suppose it’s only natural to not want to be quizzed about something that took you all of thirty seconds to put together. Those details are hard for anyone to retain. It is the same reason I prefer not to be held accountable for all my Target shopping decisions.
Colin wanted to get to the present. And what I opened was a beautiful garden stepping stone that he had spent all week making for me. When he saw my reaction to it, I thought he might explode with pride and joy. To say he was beaming would be an understatement. It was a similar look he gets when he hits a walk off home run, only better. I wished I could have bottled up that moment so that I could have something beyond words to give him when disappointment, loss, or heartbreak tempts him into thinking that he is alone in the world.
I keep hearing that the inflection point where friends start taking on more importance than parents is around thirteen. As a nine year old, Quinn is definitely taking steps in that direction, but for now I’m still the lady in his life. After a batting slump, Quinn finally had a good hit in this weekend’s baseball game. When he got to third base, instead of shouting to his Dad, his Coach, or his teammates in the dugout, he shouted out to me in the stands: “Mom!, did you see my hit?!” To which I replied, “Yes, Honey, I did!” I know that someday soon he’ll be too focused on the game or too cool to shout out to me. I also know that someday soon, I won’t be the first female face he scans for in the stands. Although it’s probably not too early to stop calling him “Honey” in public.
For Mother’s Day, Quinn gave me two cards – both with FREE redeemable coupons. I wonder if all nine year olds enclose FREE redeemable coupons in their mother’s cards, or if just the ones whose parents are in Marketing. The first coupon was for a FREE breakfast for me prepared by Quinn. Nice, although it would be better if it covered the entire family. The second was for a FREE washing of the dishes. Also nice, but since Brett usually does the dishes – this one will have to be transferable. The third one was for a FREE taking care of Colin and Lawton. No duration or expiration date was mentioned. I plan to save that one for when he is sixteen and use it preemptively. Like when his first friend gets their drivers’ license. The last one was for a FREE playing with my hair for 10 minutes. That’s the one that made me cry. Because he knows how much I like that … and because he knows that if he didn’t say 10 minutes explicitly, that I would completely take advantage of this coupon.
The absolute best part of the card however was a note that was carefully erased, but still legible. This is what it said: “If you want more free things, contact me at quinnballbach@comcast.net.” I’m still laughing about this one and wondering why exactly he erased it. He must have concluded that since we live in the same house, that I could probably find other ways beyond email to contact him. Or, he might have been worried about other FREE things I might ask for. Then again, maybe he simply felt that four coupons was a pretty good showing for just one Mother’s Day. I can’t disagree.
Lawton then gave me my final gift of the night. He fell asleep on my chest after a long and fun filled weekend. And I didn’t even have to lift up my shirt for that one.
1 comment:
Oh, so very sweet! Sniff..........
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