The boys have left for a camping trip with their Dad for the week and I’m missing them. Next week is my turn to have their undivided attention and I’m looking forward to being “just a mom”.

Justin starts school in September and I’m weepy about this. When Korey started I was so proud, I cried. With Justin, I’m crying because my babies are growing up and no matter how much time you spend, how well you document it, or how together you think you have it, the speed at which children grow is crazy lightening fast and completely out of your control.

My kisses are always followed by, “Lipstick?”

My hugs are interrupted by, “that’s enough Mom.”

My songs are cut short with, “not that one.”

But there’s still lots of “I love yous” and “I have to poop. Call you when I’m done.” So I’m grateful.

The other night Justin was crying over a dog his Dad’s landlord had to put down. Joe was Justin’s favourite dog…next to Mandy of course. He asked me what heaven was like. I told him I didn’t know. Korey interjected, “we are all going to die someday.” I said that is true, but I hope we all die of old age. Justin went balistic, “You’re not supposed to hope we die, we’re your kids.” He then turned over and asked if when he did die and came back he could have the same parents. I let the discussion end and didn’t get into the whole reincaration explanation or how we choose our parents and our children. I was sweetened that he would still choose me for his Mom. 

I must be more careful with my words. They are at a very literal age. I remember being five and paralysed with fear of dieing or not having my parents. My nightime prays went something like:

Please God, keep us all safe. Don’t let anything happen to any of us or our possessions. Please don’t let any of us have meningitus, leukemia, any kind of cancer, AIDS (added in the 80s) or any other disease. Please let us all live for a long, long, long, long, long, long time and please God, let us all die of old age. 

If I didn’t say this every night, I thought I wouldn’t wake up or something bad would happen. The security of my family rested squarely on my nightly petition.

Now I send devine wisdom to my children when we are apart and see them in white protective light. But every now and then I sneek in a petition, just in case.


About writesome

I've been wanting to do this for a while. Now I can type instead of pen scratch in a journal. It's an experiment, but isn't life. I wish you joy and happiness. May life bless you and may you bless life. View all posts by writesome

2 responses to “Gratitude

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