I wish there was a book, for how crazy parenting is. I don't mean those "How to not kill your baby" books that are out there. There are lots of those. I also don't mean those "If you don't do all these things you are a bad parent and your baby won't get into Harvard or the right pre-school" books. I mean, it could be a short book. Very small. Maybe just two pages, a forward from the author and a second page. It would say something like,"Parenting is crazy and you will never, ever figure it out so just roll with it."
My day starts out with "Mommy carry my dinosaurs" which is actually a pair of bongo drums turned upside down and filled with small plastic dinosaurs. This is apparently the preferred method of transporting dinosaurs.
Both yesterday and today were filled with fights about these same dinosaurs. What they should go into - a pumpkin from Halloween, the bongos, a purse, a coaster caddy? And Miles would dump them out and Julia would scream and pinch him and he'd pull her hair and....
I lit a fire last night. I look up from my magazine and see my three littlest ones sitting on the hearth enjoying the heat and the popping log, and realize Miles is saying "Kiss baby!" and she is saying "I love you Miles!" She ran around, stopping to kiss him and they'd laugh and giggle as though the battle of the dinosaurs and their appointed container had never occurred.
Then I woke up this morning, and apparently detente was over and it was back to it.
He does not prefer the bongos, she does.
It was another day of battles large and small. But my mind keeps wandering back to those kisses by the hearth and the secret love they have for one another. You'd never know it, but they are in fact quite fond of one another.
That makes me really happy.
Tweet
0 comments:
Post a Comment