Whoa Mama

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

All before 7am

This morning, after I walked the dog for 1.5 miles, changed the laundry, made lunches, matched socks, made breakfasts, took out the trash and mopped up under the leaking garbage disposal, then I got the boys up. Sam is pretty autonomous. Aidan is usually first dressed, down and chatting. The minute I wake Noah, this starts the kind daily nudging of the boy who entered the world 5 weeks early because he was ready and promptly refused to eat because he wasn't ready. Noah continues to do what he feels like when he feels like it. Aidan soldiered on because his roommate got them evicted and has been trying to do the right thing ever since to make up for any misunderstanding that this scene was his fault.

Fast forward almost 9 years and injustices are still befalling Aidan and he gets pissed off about it. Largely he is unnecessarily pickly, but then his older brother does make certain to imposed all the rights and consequences of  birth order upon Aidan especially. Noah, less so, because Noah just doesn't let Sam bug him too much. Aidan is a gratifying target because he howls at Sam and Sam continues to push his buttons. Point being, Sam and Aidan are the two that butt heads often.

This morning Sam presented himself in the kitchen wearing a tie. The only explanation I pried out of him, an hour later on the way to school, was because after a formal debate in class about manners, it occurred to him that he was getting sloppy. "Mommy, _____ and _____ wear pants that are practically pajama pants. That is disrespectful and I was starting to get that way too".  (Note:  #1 - this child has once ever worn ripped pants to school and they didn't leave the house that way and #2 last week manufactured an Q@%$ing tantrum of biblical proportions because I made change out of the sweatshirt he tried to wear for the third day in a row.) So my dapper, tie-clad fellow goes on to politely request permission to bring his Kindle to afterschool. He is holding said device like a platter in front of him. Then, as I voice my concerns, like Copperfield he is twirling his stocking-filler, combination lock in front of my face to demonstrate that he's thought out the security plan.

I press on. "I would still  rather you bring a paperback"
Sam: "But I don't have any of the classics in paperback"
Mom: (shhhht - well played)


I revert to the rules. "Tell me again what the instructions are at afterschool about electronics". To his credit, he gave me a very detailed answer and let me think about it. Aidan, Sam's nemesis, the one Sam delights in teasing, who Sam will go out of his way to poke literally and figuratively, quietly appeared behind Sam, with a sweet smile, carrying this stack and said, "you can borrow any of our classics, Sam"



I'm reduced to a pond of proud tears and buckle on the Kindle.


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