My Son

Tonight, I want to talk about my son. While I was at work tonight, he was all I could think of. The reason is, that I just plain miss him. I love him so much more than he will ever know. Right now he hates me. I don't just think it. He says it. All the time. I hope he doesn't REALLY mean it, but it still hurts. Most of the time he is a good kid. And while he has his bouts of asshole-itis, he has an amazing soul. I was thinking tonight, that when I was a stay at home mom for four years, I just wanted him to shut the hell up. But since I started this job, what I miss most is the sound of his voice. He gets angry with me because I am the one to yell at him when he screws up, the one who hands out the discipline, the one who makes him clean his room, take out the trash and play with his little sisters. I am the one who drags him to the doctor for shots, to the dentist for fillings, to the orthodontist for the monthly tightening of his braces. I ride his ass about doing his homework, and bringing up his atrocious grades. I make him apologize when he is rude, to me and to whomever he was rude with. I do not let him interrupt me when I am speaking. And when I am busy and he wants to tell me something, I have been known to ask if anyone was bleeding. When the answer is "No.", I tell him to leave me alone. I bitch at him for forgetting to feed his animals, and occasionally make him give the baby a bath. I often find myself losing my temper with him. And when I do, I yell. And yell. And yell. And then when I calm down, I feel bad, but I do not say I am sorry. I should. I do not know why I don't. Maybe because I am afraid that to admit that I was wrong shows weakness. And I know my son well enough to know he will take advantage of me in a moment of weakness. He is so much like me, that we constantly butt heads. We are both extremely stubborn. What kills me is that I know that he got those traits from me (okay from his dad too). But when I see them in him, I cringe. Mostly because I know how difficult life will be for him to live that way. I know. I've done it. He is like me in that once you hurt him, he never trusts you again. He does not forgive and forget. It is not in his nature, just as it is not in mine. His life will not be easy. But, and this is a Big but, he is like me in other much more pleasant ways. When he loves, he does it completely, totally and without abandon. He always tries to find the good in people. Even when it is very well hidden. He would give anyone anything he had if they seemed as though they needed it worse than he did. I say this is a good thing. Some people do not. I am just like that too, that is where he gets it. All my life I have had people accuse me of being too nice, too trusting, a "sap" to quote the hubby. Yes, I have been taken advantage of. Yes, I have been hurt trying to help others, but each time I do it again, because each time, I am hopeful that a life will be changed for the better. My son is like that. It is not always obvious, because he can at times seem extremely selfish too. (Especially with his sisters.) But I have seen him spend his own money on an ice cream, and then quietly give it to his baby sister when she dropped hers on the ground. I watched him be tormented over the course of a year, because he had chosen to grow his hair long in order to donate it to Locks Of Love, after seeing a show on T.V. about kids with cancer. In fact he was even held down on the bus by a number of boys while one of them wrote "GAY" across his forehead in permanent black marker because of his long hair. When he got home, after repeated scrubbing, I asked him if he wanted to cut his hair. He said no, because it wasn't long enough to donate yet. He went to the school the next day, even though you could still read that filthy word across his face. He went, it was his choice. I had never been so proud. The day he cut his hair he was so proud. He got out the tape measure, and measured the pony tails himself. There were two because his hair is so wonderfully thick. The one from the top of his head measured 18 inches long, the one from the back was 13 inches. When he told me how long they were he also told me that all the crap he had put up with was worth it, if it made a sick child happy. He also told me that he was thinking of doing it again. Just not yet. When I see my son do these things, quietly, without asking for special treatment or reward, I know in my soul that I have done a good job with him. He may be mouthy. He may leave his bedroom a wreck. He may forget to feed the animals. He may not always be nice to his sisters. And he may tell me almost daily that he hates me, but I know that he is a good kid, and that he will be okay out there in the world someday. I hope when he does, that I get to be there to see it. I want to know this amazing child, not as a child, my child, but as a man and as a friend.