I sat at the edge of Ryan’s bed while Cory read to him tonight. He tried to follow his fingers along with his Daddy’s on the clean white pages. The story came to an end. Ryan looked up at me and smiled. A real smile that meant “I love you so much, Mom. I know I was a complete pain in the ass today and I’m sorry. I made you want to sell me to a guy with an apple cart and I understand and won’t do it again.” (Whatever, that’s what it looked like. You weren’t there.)
But it was a mature smile, I can’t explain it, and it made me want to jump into his arms and tell him that I love him so much that it actually hurts.
We sang songs, shared a plethora of kisses and cuddles and I left in a cloud of love, rainbows and unicorns.
From the monitor he began to sing a song he learned in Spanish at school,
Te amo Mama, te amo Mama. I love you Mom, I love you Mom.
Te amo Papa, te amo Papa. I love you Dad, I love you Dad.
Te amo hermana, te amo hermana. I love you sister, I love you sister.
He called Cory back in to do his nightly sweep for lurking monsters. Three minutes later, he was pretending to be Buzz Lightyear fighting off the evil emperor Zurg. When that scenario ran out of fuel, he pretended to be his teacher admonishing one of his friends for not listening. The friend was sent to the office and Ryan called him a “person who didn’t put on his listening ears.” The last thing I heard was a big yawn, a sigh and then silence.
How infuriating it is to have children! I was all set to sell Ryan to the highest bidder today and then he went and made me wonder why I ever gave it a thought.
I started this blog as a way to remember the little things that the kids do that I will someday forget. I can’t imagine forgetting any of it, but I already have. It’s sad, but a part of life. It’s probably a good thing that we forget some things in particular, otherwise I’m not sure any of us would procreate and the species would die out.
I’m sure Ryan won’t remember a damn thing I did while home with him from birth until Kindergarten. And that SUCKS. Pure and simple.
But I hope he remembers the love. That when he thinks about his family, he feels warm and safe and happy.
Because he makes me happy.
The purest, best kind of happy.
Just hours after he made me want to sell him.