Giving New Meaning to Parenting

Last weekend, I had plans to sleep in. And I mean SLEEP IN. As any mother knows, that really translates to laying in bed until 9, ’cause key-ripes 5:30 am, everyday? Sucks. Because my children are 6 and 7, and well-trained, I can occasionally do this. Having a relaxing morning experience with Aftermath is a many a coveted thing, slow rising, morning cuddles… delicious coffee. *sigh*

So, since we have a universal signal for DON’T wake Mommy, Aftermath and I set out a box of cereal, two bowls and a couple of spoons. This eliminates the standard chorus of “we’re hungry”, a whine that at ANY time of the day is like nails on a chalkboard. Satisfied they had all they needed for a relaxing morning, Aftermath and I snuck off to the darkness of the bat cave.

I heard the first shouts around 7 am. I ignored them and rolled over. I grumbled through a disagreement at 8, with a pillow over my head and then prayed for mercy. At 8:30 the banging and giggling and sudden silences were enough to rouse me from my warm, soft haven and enter the war zone living room. Any parent knows that long silences, coupled with muffled giggles and random banging is A BAD SIGN.

This was no exception. I opened the door to a mess of epic proportions: boxes and closets and toys, exploding, multiplying, PROCREATING messy progeny all over the house! The rage began to take over, little red hazy spots started forming in the corner of my eyes as I stepped over escarpments of pillows and miniature freeways, I spun around toppled chairs and shoes and baby toys, HOPPING on one foot as I dislodge dinky cars and trucks from that tender place between my toes – my screams building… fists shaking in the air like some rabid Rumpelstiltskin… approaching both the edge of the world AND tent-city in my very own house when out of my rage I saw two smiling faces….

“Look what we did Mom?! It’s SO COOL!!!”

Then *poof* I was diffused. I stared down at these grinning faces, eyes sparkling with pride. Eagerly they showed me their “forts”, the ins and outs, the successes and failures. Somewhere around that time, the Aftermath stumbled out of the bedroom and warily looked at me. I smiled, and then together, we helped Thing One and Thing Two finish off two multi-roomed forts, complete with rest centers and t.v. peepholes.

We fell down in a heap on the small corner of the couch uncovered, the children ensconced in their palaces and sighed, smiling. I reached for his hand, and he for mine… and we waited for the sweet promise of coffee. We already had the sweet promise of family… of laughter and pride. Sometimes I admit that I forget: they’re just children, doing what they do best. Making a mess and then turning it into the fabric of dreams, the playground of imagination and the arena to slay the dragons only they can see. I only ask that next time, I have my coffee first.

by Double Agent Girl

Photo graciously provided by ‘SeraphimC, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved