Remember that feeling when you first hold your newborn and you think this is the purest and most perfect love I will ever have for another human being? Well, I think that's happening to me again. Only my kids are now "Mum I'm nearly 14" and "Mum I'm 9 not 8".
The first few years of your children's lives are amazing. Full of firsts. First smile, first rollover, first steps, first tooth, first words are all super exciting. Then come the toddler years and the first frustrations of parenthood really hit home. Tantrums, boundaries, disappointments (theirs and yours) and the sheen comes off somewhat. It's not that you don't love them, just that the reality of the day to day life of living with little people hits home.
Then come the early school years which, I must admit, can be totally adorable. But a lot of the time, at the end of the day you're dealing with a tired, cranky kid (even the best of them) and your nights can be full of planning strategies of coping.
Now that being said, my kids are pretty great. They're not perfect. There are days when I give myself timeouts from the petty arguments, the food spills and just the general noise that two boys can create in the space of one day.
But lately, I've found myself falling in love with them all over again. Not that I fell out of love, ever. but certain ages presented certain challenges and the occasional testosterone charge made life...well...interesting.
But my nearly 14 year old is turning into one of the coolest kids I know. I seriously would LIKE him even if he wasn't my kid. He's smart, independent and has the driest sense of humour that leaps out unexpectedly at you and has you snorting inelegantly at the dinner table, plus he does the meanest Irish accent I've ever heard. He's also a total sports nut and watching him talk sport with men and being taken seriously is amazing. I also like that he deepens his voice a little when in a group of males. I can see him "manifying" in front of me. But he does sweet things like grab my hand when we're walking or offers his arm like an old-fashioned 19th century gentleman as we walk the dog. This does juxtapose nicely with the fart joke he is telling me.
My I'm 9-not-8 year old is a different kettle of fish. He lives on his own planet, but let me tell you it's a great place to visit. I find myself having conversations with him that resemble Salvador Dali or Picasso paintings. You're never quite sure what they mean, but they're definitely fun to analyse. He's also quite willing to drop whatever he's doing and burst into song and dance with you at almost any occasion. (Gangnam style down the supermarket aisle anyone?). He's also writing his first novel (he thinks it will take three years to finish the story arc he has in mind), but at the same time he hasn't grown out of singing as he poops from when he was a toddler. (It's how we got him to sit still long enough). There's nothing funnier than hearing LMFAO's I'm Sexy and I Know It coming from your toilet.
So, even though life is not perfect and filled with conversations that start with "your room does not have a floordrobe" and "if I step on one more piece of freakin' lego" and "we do not put cheezels up your brothers nose" and "if you can't play without arguing I'll turn the G-DAMN WII OFF" I have to say that this time, right now, is the time I'm enjoying the most as a parent.
I'm not sure exactly why that is, I'm just grateful. It could all change in an instant. Life's like that.
