"But it's alright
Take it out on me...
But it's alright
Take it out on me..."
The lyrics of the song, Broad-Shouldered Beasts by Mumford and Sons' blasts out as I fry perogies, the scent of onions filling my nose, meloncholy filling my heart. Maybe it was the light of the dusk or the words of the song, the fact that the boys will be returning to school soon or the chaotic scenes between my sons' and I that filled my head...but, yes, it was definitely meloncholy that I was feeling.
How many times in 48 hours is it normal for one to wish the next 10 days away and then minutes later take them back with a whiplashing heartbreak for wishing the time away. Again. And again. And again.
"Mommy..." my baby, who's no longer a baby says to me through sobs, "how would YOU feel if you were just a little kid and an adult didn't let you play at your friend's house...?...."
So how do I explain that his brother just needed some time away? That that friend is much more his big brother's friend than his? How do I explain that to a 5 year old boy whose first words every morning are, "Where is Adrian?"
"I do know baby. I'm sorry..."
"NO YOU DON'T! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME." I tried to hold him close but he screamed not to touch him. I sat a foot away. Waiting with my heavy heart, my arms longing to take away his hurt as they so often have.
Maybe not this time.
Within minutes he made his way into my lap where I wiped away his tears, his head on my chest, my lips on the crown of his head.
How many times does a Mother's heart break every day? What's the average?
Between 5 and 500 is probably a pretty good ball park.
He is not quite 6. These are the kind of 'conversations' that make my soul cower as I recover them in my mind in the wee hours of the night...what will 16 bring?
What will 16 bring.
God have mercy on me. His emotional manipulation at a wee age is something to be admired and feared.
Adrian pushed he plate away, "I just lost my APPETITE!" he screamed at me today after I became more than exasperated when he dropped his sandwich into his lap. I know better than to react that way and normally I don't bat an eye as he figures it out on his own. But if you only knew how many times he drops food in a day. He's like me, a clutzy food eater. It's genetic, it cannot be helped. But yet I lost my patience. What's that saying?...."The things that annoy you about others is usually something you see in yourself?" or something like that. Anyway. He lost it, I lost it. He went up to his room and I let him go, knowing I should've apologized. Knowing that no good would come if I followed him. Five minutes later he came down and ended up eating the lap fallen sandwich. He had calmed himself in a semi-mature way and I had calmed myself by breathing and waiting. I said I was sorry - because really? A fallen sandwich is so, so minuscule.
Later we lay in my bed and listened to music. I showed him how we could look up the lyrics to the songs. I let him choose as his long, strong, bronzed seven year old legs fell over mine. He chose 'Photograph' by Ed Sheeran. Probably my least favourite song on that album but as we read the lyrics, unexpected tears came to my eyes.
"Loving can hurt
Loving can hurt sometimes
But it's the only thing that I know
When it gets hard
You know it can get hard sometimes
It is the only thing that makes us feel alive...."
This is Motherhood...it encompasses SO MUCH. So much of everything. Every adjective and verb in the world could probably be applied to what we are, do and feel. Strong, alive, hard, tender, loving, detached, logical, emotional. We are all of it. We are where our children long to be when life is tough. And here is where we shall stand when it does.
We are our children's Broad Shouldered (Beautiful) Beasts.