You are three of the coolest kids I know, and I will gladly spend all of your growing up years loving you in the best way I know how. I will make a million sandwiches and kiss hundreds of boo boos. I will sing loudly in the car to your favorite songs, and I will wink at you when no one else is looking. I will be your cheerleader, your counselor, your dance party dj, and your personal shopper.
But, there are a few things I will not do for you.
I will not create a princess carriage or a pirate ship in your room. Count on it. It will never happen. Because the bunk bed we bought on Craigslist works fine. Because you love snuggling into your little Kmart comforters and whispering until late into the night in your little room stuffed with boy toys and girl toys and lots and lots and lots of books. Because you are happy. Without a pirate ship to sleep in.
I will not make lunches that look like Miss Piggy. First of all, because this combination of food doesn’t look like something that kids eat. And secondly because I have real things to do, like washing socks and underwear, taking a shower, picking you up from school, and generally doing anything else that is sort of productive. Turning twisty pasta into blonde ringlets to frame a pig’s sandwich face isn’t high on my list of priorities. And, you are happy with your regular sandwiches, minus crust, in Ziploc bags from the Dollar Store. Sometimes I even throw in a note telling you how much I love you. You seem to like that.
I will not buy you designer clothes. You are children. You make messes. You pretend to be dogs a lot. You white out the knees of your pants and stretch out the hems of your shirts. When you come crawling through the living room barking like puppies, I don’t want to be so bothered by the fact that you’re ruining your cool pants that I can’t enjoy the moment. And, truth be told, y’all, you probably won’t ever get designer clothes. But, you’ll generally be happier people if you learn to be just as satisfied with a cute shirt from JCPenney. Right now you couldn’t care less. If it has cats or dogs or dinosaurs on it, you are pleased.
I will not make amazing homemade teacher gifts. As much as I admire the craftiness of my fellow mothers, you don’t seem to be the least bit concerned that I didn’t stay up until one in the morning melting crayons down into an awesome personalized piece of teacher art. You guys just march into school with your Sonic giftcards with no qualms at all, and after school your teachers get a cherry lime aide. Win-win. Especially the part where I didn’t stay up until one in the morning.
And, finally, I will not rush your childhood. I will give you plenty of time to play. I’ll make sure you are eating and bathing and using your imaginations. I will play with you. I will turn off the TV and the computer and my phone. I will look you in the eye and I will try my hardest to remember every precious moment of life with my three babies. I won’t rush you, kids. And, I won’t fall over myself trying to be supermom, either. You are happy with your little room and your little lunches and your little clothes and my lack of craft inspiration. In fact, I’m pretty sure you don’t give any of those things much thought. What you will remember of these years with me, my babies, is not what I did or didn’t do for you, but how I made you feel. I hope you feel all of my love.