Kids are great, I adore them. Particularly between the ages of oh, 4 and 7 or so. Very cute, very funny and just old enough to have ALOT of fun with them and just young enough that they've not quite taken on the personality of a morose ogre living under a bridge, lamenting it's creator.
If the nurse had told me that the once sweet, kind, big blue eyed saint of a human that had just emerged from my body would some day become a conflicted, moody, demanding and arbitrarily defiant version of that same human, I might have asked her to put him back. But that's not how it works and alas, these ARE the growing pains of the many evolutions that occur in a single life time.
Max and I have grown through a lot together, we know each other on levels that not a single other person can understand. It is the bond you share with your children, it's a bond that doesn't exist with anyone else for the entire remainder of your life time once you are a) born b) become a mother. An immense novel like book could never clearly detail out what this love is and the intricate knowledge that we share of one another. And, with that knowledge comes times of both joy and discord between us. Love, has a way of doing that...emphasizing joy AND discord. Funny how that works.
Children, basically, want to be loved and adored I've learned. They really want to be mothered also, but like cats who will only allow cuddles on their terms, children of Max's age only want to be mothered on their terms. Which isn't always comfortable or at all convenient. Mothers, on the most simple level, only want for their children to be safe, healthy and happy.
But really, it's so much more complex than that and what I know to be true after raising a child for 15+ years is that the complexities shift based on personal growth, familial changes, external changes (work, etc.) and are also some how related to lunar cycles and planetary changes, or so I choose to believe as I often have no other explanation for it other that one of is about to transform into a werewolf at any moment.
What I've also learned, is that no matter how old you are, how much money you have, your social status, what kind of degree you have, how much experience you think you have or how spiritual your center may be....you WILL (I promise) make a lot of mistakes. And so will your kid(s) and ultimately, that is what life is about. Busting a knee cap, nursing it back to health and eye balling that wound for the rest of your life in the hopes that you don't do it again.
I've totally screwed some stuff up. Max has felt the repercussions of my choices off and on his entire life. After all, he didn't ASK to be born into this world and have me as his mother. Even if the Universe had other plans, this is what he got and I'm glad to have him even though he's not always so happy to have me. Thing is, in spite of my many faults, I do love him and I am here for him. I always have been, I may not always be 100% present for whatever reason, because my insides are convoluted and confused and often in pain...but I am here for him and I've worked hard to make a good life for him.
He may never be able to full understand these things, how we've struggled just to survive at various times in our lives. How I vowed he would never know what it was like to be beaten or hungry or humiliated or ignored. He will probably not know how I've agonized over trying to do every thing right and be a good mother for him so that he had least had a fighting chance in a world that will usually kick your ass first and then ask questions. About the years where all I did was work and take care of him and had absolutely no sense of self or time to discover who I was or what my purpose was and how that affects him now. Some days, I'm sure he wishes his life was a lot easier or that he had a different mother and probably really wishes he had a dad in his life. But he will never really know just how hard it can be. Not as long as he's with me anyway. And I am certain, that right now, as he's upstairs fuming and cussing me under his breathe over why I'm after him about maintaining basic grades, he cannot at all comprehend why I'm being so tough on him. Because he does not yet have the experience to truly fathom the love that mothers have for their children. Or human fallacy.
Poor kid, he's definitely got a few more bumps and bruises. But, I'll still be there to kiss them and help him up. Even if he doesn't want me or appreciate the person offering him a hand up. It's ok, it comes with time.
And really what he has to know, is that I will always love him...no matter what he does because he IS going to make some mistakes. We are going to disagree and I too, am going to royally screw stuff up and I've just accepted that and can appreciate my faults as an opportunity to face my fears and make great changes in my life when that opportunity makes itself clear.
But it doesn't mean I won't expect him to maintain a basic C average in school and it doesn't mean I won't expect him to pick up his room and it doesn't mean I will allow him to yell at his Momma, because it is NOT ok to yell at your Momma. Ever. Period.
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