Even the sweet ones will flip you the bird, apparently - Throwback Thursday

The boys are pretty good lately. They are (almost) easy. They are doing their homework (almost) without reminders. They don't fight (too much). They are even getting up for school (most days) without even one sleepy grumble. But going back and reading an old post like this one keeps me from feeling too smug... It's hard to believe that this deliciousness once shot me the bird, huh?

When Your Kid Flips You the Bird

This post was originally posted here on September 24, 2013

(I didn't even realize I wrote this EXACTLY 2 years today until I went back just now!)

Isn't it ironic?

That's what Alanis said, right? Yeah, life's like that sometimes.

It was just last night, for example, that I reread an old blog post entitled "Sometimes I Don't Like My Kid." It's my most popular post, stats-wise. I was chuckling (out loud) about how much easier Ben has gotten since that post...about how I could barely remember that feeling of really disliking my own kid and thinking that perhaps his behavior was out of my control...that feeling of wondering to myself: Who the F is this kid and why is he pulling this kind of shit?!? (Chuckle, chuckle.) It was sooooo long ago. (Snicker.) I was such a new, inexperienced mother. (Tee-hee-hee.)  My kid has since gotten himself under control (most days). I barely remember that feeling!

Yes, that was me, last night, chuckling away. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Ha.

And I suppose it was just that sort of cocky guffawing that got the Universe a little amused with me and decided: Oh yeah?

And so today, upon picking up my younger son at school, the son who is (supposedly) the more angelic one of the two (as if!), the one who tends to hide behind my legs in new settings, the one who is always described by others as "sweet," "marshmallow-like," "quiet," and "such a good boy," I was told he punched not one, but two, of his friends. Punched! One lucky friend got it in the stomach. The other, right on the cheek.

Apparently, it pays to be known as the sweet, marshmallow-like, quiet, good boy, because neither the teacher nor the bus driver did much more than admonish.

Mommy, on the other hand, made up for both of those suckers who have been fooled by his cherub face, dimpled cheeks, and Sponge Bob eyeglasses.

Once The Talk had been had and The Consequences had been determined, we went about our afternoon of homework, homework, and more homework, with a little bit of dinner sprinkled in.

It happened somewhere in between the dinosaur chicken nuggets and the homework completion: my baby flipped me the bird.

Knowingly.

Like, for real.

Before you jump to the conclusion that Hubby and I are typical Miami drivers and flip the bird on a regular basis as part of our commute, I can honestly say that not only have I never shot a bird in front of my kids, the bird is not even my expletive of choice. For one thing, it's not an expletive at all: it's silent. And if you know me, you know I'm anything but. I'm more of a loud F-bomb kinda girl. (And before you get all excited and eager waiting for the blog post to come in which one of  my kids loudly drops an F-bomb, I'll have you know that being a teacher instills in you an almost superhuman-like ability to not curse in front of children.)

So where, then, did my five-year-old learn how to appropriately and accurately use Mr. Tall Man?

Of course...his (not much) older brother.

And where, then, did my eight-year-old learn it?

Duh. School, of course!'

So there I was again: wondering who the F is this punching, bird-flipping, bully of a kid and why is he pulling this kind of shit?!?

Of course, when I filled in my husband on the afternoon's events, he chuckled quite audibly, and immediately asked: "So there's a blog post in there somewhere, right?"

I was already typing as he asked.

*Note to self: If you happen to reread this blog post in a few years, do NOT chuckle, especially if the boys are behaving themselves.

*****************************************************

Lesson learned...No chuckling here!!

You are ten

I remember

that quiet solitary moment in the hospital

when everyone had left

I was left

with you

in my arms

your eyes were open

you were looking at me

and I didn't really understand

but I knew there was one thing

I could tell you

for sure:

that you were a lucky baby

that you had the coolest father

the best dad

of that

only

I was sure

you had this smell

I still remember it

I have no idea what it was

why you had it

but your brother never did

and I have never smelled it since

it was not baby cologne

or baby powder

it was

simply

you

it smelled like being born

purity

clean

earth

this smell

we still talk about it

remember it

your daddy and I

it has been ten years

ten

you came into our lives

some crazy psychic once said

you were a special soul

you drive us crazy

often

and

intensely

but there is

this special bond

an awareness

that there is something

different

about

you

you

single-handedly

changed me, him

us

one decade

The baby

the one who had waited

to come when it was time

the only one who could have

filled the space

that we were not sure

even needed

filling

and I am still

not sure

we could even come close

to being worthy

of being chosen

by you