Mother's Day.

This mother has some requests.

Dear Kids,

Please, please, please shut up. Please stop fighting with one another. Get yourselves ready for school without a fist fight. Eat the dinner I prepared without complaining that it isn't what any of you wanted. Put the food in your mouth and chew it. With your mouth closed, preferably. Pick up your dirty clothes and put them in the laundry room. Take a shower without arguing that you took one yesterday. Let your brother(s) take a shower alone without busting into the bathroom and then teasing him about penis size, ensuing another fist fight. Go to bed. Sleep all night. Get up nicely.

Please do not wear your muddy ball cleats in the house. Please shut the fridge door and please stop drinking out of the milk container, even though your father does. Please turn off a light when you leave a room. Please do not hold me responsible for your missing ball glove or bat. Along with this, remember to shut up, because all the needless banter is slowly killing me. Try to think about what you are saying before you say it. Think about whether or not it makes sense. Please help your sister find her pink baby. Please push her on the swing when she sits there for 10 minutes waiting for someone, anyone to push her. Don't pick on her, don't tease her. Don't make her scream, as I am looking for quiet, hence all the requests to shut up.

Please don't move the chair right in front of the tv. No one needs to sit four inches in front of the tv. And since I mentioned tv, please find something to watch that isn't some lame, mindless, brain sucking show about twin boys, wizards, igirl with obnoxious friends or a yellow sponge. Watch Animal Planet or Discovery Channel. Try to learn something.

Dear Husband,

Please stop being so nice. It's hard being married to freakin' Jesus. Stand up for yourself and for me. Please let me take a bath ALONE and do not assume I want your company, either in the tub itself or on the toilet next to the tub. There are three other toilets in this house.

Please pick up your socks. The black Under Armour ones. You know what ones I'm referring to. Just pick them up and put them in the laundry room. Take the initiative to leave the house with the children in tow. Take them for a hike. Please sit down on weekends and stop making me feel like all we can do all weekend is work, work, work. Please let me finish landscaping the front yard and stop saying "No one sees the front yard." because I see the front yard.

Please, if you see I am reading a book, do not bother me. Do not start a conversation about your lack of pitchers on the little league team, because..my love, I do not give a shit. Please, for once in your life, put a roll of toilet paper on the holder. Just try it.

Please SHAVE. Your face. I understand you are bald and any hair is a gift, but the scrubble on your face hurts my face and your daughter's face. We don't like.

I don't want fancy gifts or flowers. I just want my sanity back.

Love,

Mom

The Middle Son

This is about a son. A son and a mother. A son and a father. A son and his brothers. And finally, a boy and his friends.

Every family has THIS story. In varied stages, absolutely. Every family has a child in the family who needs more than the others. It is NOT about loving that child more than the others. It's not human to love one of your kids more than the others. If that were the case, for God's sake, people would have only had one child or live in China. (thankfully my parents knew that I didn't share well with others, hence being an only child worked very well for me..snap!)

My twins were the happiest, most well adjusted babies and toddlers. They went to school and made friends (who I love)..they get beautiful grades. They have glowing reports from teachers, from coaches. They play sports because they love the comradery of the team. They are team players. Over the past weekend, they had friends here and I smiled quietly and laughed later with my husband as the conversation revolved around baseball and girls. They are so free with us and they talk in front of us and with us.

Third son is not like that. Not quite.

He was, as I have wrote before, the most stoic of babies. People would get in his face, as a baby, and coo and babble at him trying to extract a smile. He would look at them, right in the eyes, and not only NOT smile, he would stare at them like "WTF is WRONG with you? Dummy." One eyebrow raised. I would kind of laugh nervously, almost like trying to cover up this strange child's random disposition.

"Why does he act like this?" I would ask my husband. "Why doesn't he like anyone?"

As he grew, we noticed he was far more willing to take risks than the twins. He had no problem walking UP the slide at 14 mos while his 4 yr old brothers were still half afraid to slide DOWN it. We had a 'zip line' hooked to the slide that went to a tree (one of my husbands many superfundangerous ideas that all kids LOVE)..he grabbed onto that sucker when he was 2 years old and away he went, right into the tree. Blood pouring, wiped his with his sleeve, he climbed right back up that slide and did it again. No emotional reaction.

We bought the twins ATV's when they were 8 yrs old, helmets, pads, the whole nine yards. We have enough property that they have free reign over it and have made their own trails. Well, guess who decides he is going to ride that ATV? You know it. Husband had to pull out spark plugs so it wouldn't be able to go as fast. Guess who figured out how to fix that problem? You know it. Four years later, he not only has his own ATV, he rarely rides sitting down, he builds ramps and can kick start his father's standard transmission four wheeler. He not only rarely rides sitting down, he rarely even wears a shirt. Jeans, boots and a helmet.

The end.

This kid has gone through hell. He knocked his teeth out. He can't talk. He can grunt. I drag him to pediatric dentists. Orthodontists. Speech pathologists. Hospitals.

This kid walked around for three days with a ruptured appendix.

He doesn't complain. He puts his nose to the grind and gets it done.

All through this, my husband and I have laughed and marvelled at how incredible stoic he has remained. He rarely says "I love you."

This is a kid who silently has made his mind up to reach his goals. His way.

He doesn't 'love' someone because society says he must. He has just started telling his grandparents that he loves them. They had to earn it.

I think this is my main idea. This is probably the one, single thing that I love about this child.

He owns himself.

He owes no one any thanks for ANYTHING he can and/or will accomplish, because he is doing it all on his own time and terms. He trusts no one, until proven.

Once gained, it is unbreakable.

Our kids lay in bed and visit before bed, and because I am the type of mother who listens in the doorway, I take what he says and sit on it.

"You know who I love?" he'll say. "I love Dad because he is so awesome. He plays catch with me every day and he lets me work on my fourwheeler with his good tools."

"I love Mom because she's mom. She makes me sausage and she doesn't make me eat the broccoli. I hate broccoli, Nick. Hate it. And mom never makes me eat it. She makes you eat it though!" (laughing usually follows when the boys compare food intake and what I will and will not force)

He will list off his friends, and because of privacy, I will not name them. But if their mother's read this blog, they will know without a doubt which kid he is talking about.

"I love ____ because he knows me the best. He doesn't care if I'm wrong or right or if I had a strange way of talking. He just is my best friend because we're supposed to be that way.He hugged me when that bee stung me at Miss Linda's. I never have to wonder if we are friends."

"I love ____ because he makes me laugh. He is my best friend because he knows exactly how to act to make the whole class laugh. And he makes every sport so fun, he makes me laugh so hard and he falls and rolls and makes every day like a movie."

"I love ____ because he is so smart. He is such a better reader than I am, I hope he's in my classes forever because he always can help me with reading, and he has really good video games and a room in his house ONLY for FOOD. And his mom is super pretty."

"I love __ because he's the only kid I know who wants to win as bad as I do. He makes me try harder to win. He makes me run faster and hit harder. Before we were friends I didn't know how to win as good. He made me feel good about trying harder. And he never gets mad at me for tackling him."

Know this, fellow mothers: this kid is strange. He's for real. There is no false reality about him..your sons have earned this.