Being a Mom

One of the best -- and sometimes worst -- parts of my day are the "mom" parts. Today is a random day in the life of being a mom and some of the best and worst parts:

[From the bathroom] "Mama"
"What, Joshua?"
"Knock, knock"
"Who's there"
"Centipede"
"Centipede who?"
"Santa peed on the Christmas tree."
Raucous laughter from the bathroom!

Currently, there is an EXTREMELY loud version of a combination of Alvin's Christmas song and I Saw Mama Kissing Santa Claus coming from the shower. Prior to his getting in the shower, I had to go through the regular litany:
"What do you use on your hair?"
"Shampoo."
"What do you wash while you are in the shower?"
"Both pits, my bottom and my feet."
"ALL your body, Joshua -- WITH soap."
"Oh ... yeah."

As the shower cuts off, he says, "Mama, I need a towel." *sigh* After drying and getting out of the shower, I hear, "Man, now that's good looking." What???? I remind him (not for the first time tonight), "Dry your feet off before you leave the bathroom." This is needed or I will flatten out in the hall on the puddles of water in the path to his room.

When I picked him up from school today, I got the pleasure of explaining to him why it's not appropriate to call people, "Gay" and why it is most especially not appropriate in your church class on Wednesday night. (Granted, he was called a name or two as well, but ...) Now, first, he doesn't know what gay means. He doesn't even know the basis of what it means. So, I try to explain that in the most delicate way I can without raising too many more questions.

Then there's the morning routine. His alarm goes off at 6:40. He promptly turns it off. I'm not even sure he wakes up to do it. At 7:00 I try to wake him up by rubbing his back and giving him "sqwooshes". I go to pick out a shirt and I say, "Do you want to wear your school sweatshirt and t-shirt, yea or nay?" I hear something that is muffled, but sounds like, "Yea." so I start to get it out at which point, he becomes FULLY awake to tell me, NO!! I said, "Nay". Grumpy bear did not want to get up. At this point, he's own his own in the picking out clothes department. The reminders start, "Brush your teeth and put on deodorant." This will be repeated no less than 5 times before he leaves. At 7:30, amongst choruses of "We're going to be LATE!!!" we manage to usually leave the house. Most of the time we even have everything we need -- but it takes three of us to get it.

But, in the midst of the drama, there is laughter. In the midst of the repitiveness, there is that which breeds a familiar sameness about each day that I will look back on in a few years and long for. I laughingly tell people I was really sad when he grew out of the TV show, "Hey Arnold" because I really (really!) liked that show - "Hey, Footballhead."

Tonight as we were tromping through Wal-mart, we were jokingly bickering with each other and Kevin said, "Can't you two just get along? What's your problem?" Simultaneously, without thinking or looking at each other, we both said, "You" and then burst into peals of laughter and high fives. Yes, he is most definitely my son. And I wouldn't trade a minute of being his mom for anything in the world.

To close his day, he just walked in as I'm writing and gave me a big hug and kisses -- what else would a mom want?