Growing up

Everyone ‘old’ always tells me that kids grow up too fast, that I should enjoy them now. I am always amazed at those people who are so amused with their kids, all the time. Some people love to be around their kids, ALL the time. Some moms love, I mean LOVE, babies. Some laugh at everything their toddlers do and say. Some love to give hugs, and kisses, and such. Well, not me. I’m pretty much NOT a touchy-feely type. In fact, when is the last time you saw a PDA with my own husband, let alone my kids??? Hmmm??? That’s what I thought. I also enjoy being by myself. I like to hear myself think. Not really possible with two boys, who seldom hush.

But, after what seems like a really long time, I am just now starting to laugh at the things they do. I really had a hard time in the baby phase. If babies came about 3 years old, and potty trained, I think I’d have a couple more. So, now with my youngest just turned six, the kids are getting pretty amusing, or maybe it’s that I think I’ve finally got my mind back, and can appreciate them, and realize that they are, indeed growing up too quickly.

And, as it goes, I get what I deserve/need. Since I am not touchy-feely, I have one very touchy-feely boy. And since I enjoy my solace so much, I have another attention reveler. One cannot get enough hugs, and one cannot get enough attention. Just what I need to expand my horizons.

Every morning, despite nightly threats, they come into my room, around 6am, happy, no, giddy. (Meatheads. I don’t find them amusing at that hour.) It’s always the same. The first one there inquires about the other, gives a cheer if he is first, then climbs into the bed, ‘burrows’ down, and proceeds to put his sticky toes on me. Aghhh! Shortly after the first one comes, inevitably the second one comes, and does the same. It’s usually then that I must get up. It’s unbearable. They know it drives me crazy, and they love it. (It must be a boy thing) They also like to sing silly tunes and songs they make up, to mock me, while lying in bed. Bryce has one he thinks goes to the tune of Silent Night, though it sounds nothing like it. The words are variations of “mommy” followed by gibberish (goo, coo, boo, etc), again and again. Always the same tune (sounds like Reverently, Quietly), as the toes are reaching through the blankets. Now, tell me, what’s to be enjoyed here?? When I’m old and in the hospice will I wish he was there to stick his toes all over me??? I think not.

Gus, on the other hand, likes to hum tunes, such as the Imperial Death March. Nothing like welcoming the morning with Darth Vader and his sticky toes. I see that they are growing up too fast, but for some reason, I doubt that my tormenting will fade with their increased age. They love it too much. They will grow bigger, but I doubt they will ever really grow up.

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