A different kind of quiet time

Last night, as every other night, I was craving something sweet. Unable to convince my husband to run out to grab me an ice cream sundae, I was forced to change out of my pajamas and throw on real clothes. I drove the 4 blocks to the ice cream parlor, because God forbid I walk off the calories I was about to consume, and found a spot right in front. As, I took the keys out of the ignition I noticed, what looked to be, a mother and her teenage son sitting out front eating their ice cream. What struck me about them was that they were sitting in total silence. I've seen this kind of silence before, usually between an older couple who have apparently run out of things to talk about in their many years together and suffer through the rest of their time in silence. The image saddened me. There are many moments throughout the day when I wish, beg and cry for silence. Just 5 minutes where someone isn't asking me for something or whining at me or yelling at me. 5 minutes of quiet to appreciate and savor would be a gift. I always assumed that the loud, in your face, constant noise was a side effect of the testosterone forming in my young boys. That by the time they were older, some sort of peace would be restored and normal communication just may be possible. I imagined that they would come to me with girl trouble, friend problems, tales of woe but also share successes, sports victories and endless tales of their social life. I like to think that they have inherited my wit and we would enjoy friendly banter and quips. Not once, in all my fantasies did I picture us sitting in silence. I relayed the story to my husband through a mouth filled with bites of gooey chocolate and his response caught me off guard. "So you think, when the boys are teenagers, they are going to want to talk to YOU?" As though, I was not their beloved mother, but rather a stranger, from a foreign land who spoke in tongues. "Of course!" I nearly shouted at him. I mean why wouldn't they? I have spent countless hours caring for them, listening to them, catering to their every need. We laugh together and play together and enjoy each others company immensely...why would this change? Was I outrageous to think this? Had the Hallmark commercials shaken my grip on reality so strongly that I no longer knew what was real? I think not. I think that when my boys are older, we will enjoy conversation over our ice cream sundaes. It may not be the way that I imagined, but I don't doubt that it will happen. I prefer to think back on the scene I witnessed and imagine that this woman and her son were simply between subjects. Each lost in their own thoughts or memories stirred by an earlier conversation. Perhaps, they had spent a long day together and were trying to enjoy the last moments of a warm summer night before autumn descends upon us once again. Maybe, they were sitting in silence but doing it while sharing their favorite frozen treat and in that way sealing their lifelong bond. In whatever way we communicate with our children, I hope that it is meaningful to both of us. That we never stop learning about each other, and finding ways to spend time together. I look forward to that dish of ice cream with each of my sons and hope that if a stranger comes upon us, we are laughing fitfully, tears in our eyes and communicating in our own special language.

my kids tried to kill me today

so seriously...they must have hatched the plan last night while i slept. when i woke up this morning they  took turns alternating between screaming, whining and crying at different points and sometimes in unison. i was awake for maybe 25 minutes before I hit the wall, so you can imagine how the rest of the day went. thank god its bed time

whiiiiiiiiiiiiine

I've raised a whiner. I'm not sure at what point this happened. Somewhere between "isn't my baby so good..he eats all his vegetables and never throws a tantrum" to "oh my god, is he freaking serious right now with the crocodile tears and high pitched squeal" a whiner was born. A typical day goes something like this....want another video? whine for it! Dont like breakfast? whine and cry to get out of it! Don't want to go to school? Run to your room, slam the door and refuse to get dressed...all while whining. In between the whines he may throw out "you're not my mom" or "I dont like you" or my all time personal favorite, "the mailman hates me" (only after whining and crying upon discovering that there is no mail for him). The funny thing is, we lay down all kinds of boundaries for this child. We don't appease him at every turn and its a cold day in hell when we just give into the whining...although it has happened once or twice. He's like a prepubescent girl and having lived through that phase myself, I can say with some certainty...it sucks. I wonder if there is some sort of rebate offered by the hospital, where I can turn him in and then pick him back up after this phase has passed. Like a pawnshop...Im leaving something of value (my child) and I'll pick him up when I can deal. I'm seriously exhausted and  am not sure how much more I can take. I was told that the beauty of having only boys, was that I didnt have to deal with all the hormones and emotional outbursts. So much for that theory. I guess my only options...barring the pawnshop trade wont work...are investing in earplugs, drinking, or teaching his brother sign language in the hopes that he will think im hearing impaired and save the whining for his daddy.