Tuesday, 28 May 2013

Half Term

Sometimes pictures don't tell the truth, sometimes they tell nothing but the truth. I can't lie. Someday, far, far away I want to look back here and remember not only the snapshot moments but also the intensity of this period in our family life. Quite simply, my boys are crazy right now and therefore by default hubby and I are crazy right now too. I mean the kind of crazy that upon opening their eyes from waking up, I can hear through the wall one of them say things like 'right, let's arm wrestle' or 'hurry up before mum hears' or family forbidden words usually 'idiot' or 'I hate you'. It's all normal stuff but their contact sport shenanigans, their bickering, their laughter that falls into tears, their needing to occupy the same space even when there is a pocket elsewhere in our teeny house, is none stop and it's pretty wearing. Just when hubby or I lose our minds and decide for the good of all men that we will separate them, they call longingly to one another like pining dogs and cast me him or me sideways glances that tell us very clearly that we are the enemy now! 

I'm moody and dramatic. My hubby is moody and dramatic. And yeah da darrrr, you guessed it those offspring of ours have inherited it too although thinking about it realistically, the force is still not that strong in them which is kind of what troubles me. What if? I say to myself, as I fast forward to the future and picture them as out of control, disengaged and unhappy youths! Dramatic? Me?

I don't normally like to express negative thoughts that relate to my kids in this kind of forum. I still have vivid memories of the occasions that my own mum revealed too much too publicly for my liking. I particularly remember when she told Aunty Mary Twigg about me taking a coin out of her purse (please note I still can't say 'steal') and another time when she rolled her eyes back into her head talking about my bedwetting (sorry mum, forgiven but not forgotten). It was hideous. I think I also remember conjuring up some ideas for revenge. I know I too will make my mistakes and I too will take my turn and have my offspring wishing hateful s**t on me, their mother and just like that, in the true style of a drama queen, I feel purged. I feel better. I can't lie. 

And when the times comes, far, far from now and I revisit these words, these feelings I want to remember also the goosebumps I feel each time I hear through the bedroom wall, those boys of mine exchanging the words 'I love you Zach, I love you Elliott'. Or how much I enjoy the slightly nervous smile of anticipation on my eldest boy's face whilst he queues for his favourite doughnuts and I know I'll keep that look stored in my head forever because it makes me feel both proud and protective all at once. How I routinely glance back from my front passenger seat when we're in the car to pucker up and throw a kiss in my youngest boy's direction and how he squints his eyes ever so slightly and offers me one in return followed by the sweetest, sweetest smile and I realise each time that he is my baby forever. These examples, these big little things are the specks of gold, the blessings, the gifts ... even the crazy stuff, even the driving me crazy stuff. And so, for a time far, far from now when perhaps I am no longer here a message for my offspring: Boys, I loved it all! The memorable stuff, the good stuff, the not so easy stuff and the downright hard stuff! I loved it all ... Mama x.


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