Saturday, April 12, 2014

Momentarily sucking the marrow out of life

I am very much down on the concept of trying to savor every minute with my children.  I read articles and blogs in which mothers (it's always mothers) should drop whatever it is they are doing and just enjoy their children.  

I call bullshit on this nonsense.  

Because me feeling guilty every second of the day because I'm not savoring every instant of my kids' childhoods is more exhausting than if I were actually savoring every second of their existence.  

I am going to go about the business of ignoring each of my children's every single solitary utterance and listening to my instincts that seem to jerk me into paying attention when it seems I really and truly need to pay attention.  

I am going to get done what needs to be done and when one of my children is on a roll of awesomeness.....THEN I am going to pay attention because nature is telling me at that moment, "Hey Lady, pay attention!" 

M happens to be on an awesome streak....saying really amusing things, being especially cute (although he is often still a complete douche nozzle when he throws a fit because I got him a glass instead of letting him pick a plastic cup, which I would have done had he relied on speech to say, "Mommy, I want to get my own cup," instead of attempting a failed mind-meld with me to parley his cup preferences). 

Signs of awesomeness:

*The other night, he saw my copy of The Old Man and the Sea in the bathroom.  He said to me, "I saw dat movie at Nana & Pa's.  But da man had a hat."  

(I'm not sure what impressed me most---that he was able to connect the visual of the book jacket with the movie without being able to read the words on the cover or that he was able to focus his eyes on the television in the midst of the sugar coma that ensues whenever he visits my parents' house.)

*When I watched a bit of Jimmy Fallon & Stevie Nicks, he walked over and asked me, 'Is dis da cowbells?" (Although I fail mightily as a mother at times, I did well by showing him the SNL Blue Oyster Cult skit.)

*Yesterday in the car, he requested "Da Back of da bar" song.  I had no earthly idea what song he wanted so he attempted to clarify by saying, "Da Panda" song.  It took a moment, but the light came on:  He wanted to hear Kesha's "C'Mon."  A close listening to the second verse indeed featured the line, "Write our names on the wall at the back of the bar."  He has watched and danced to this song on Just Dance 2014 with his siblings, and apparently this 1 line stuck out more than the 1,000 times she sings the refrain.

*This week I worked on digging yet another trench for a French Drain in our backyard.  After asking first if he could get muddy, to which I replied, "Well of course!" he had a time (from which the seat of his pants will never recover).  

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