Last night I put my son to bed,
but before he fell asleep,
he said he had some questions,
one or two that wouldn't keep.
And so, I sat back on his bed
and held his precious hand.
I lovingly gave him a squeeze
as his angelic voice began.
"Mommy, will you love me
when I dye my hair bright red,
when I won't stay still at bath time
and refuse to go to bed?
Mommy, will you love me
when my music is too loud,
or when you think you see me
hanging out with a fast crowd?
Mommy, will you love me
when I think I'm fully grown,
and I'm sure I must take action,
make decisions on my own?
Mommy, will you love me
when you’re sure your heart will break
because I insist on doing things
my way, for my pride’s sake?
And mommy, will you love me
when it’s time to let me go,
and you’re watching from afar
to see how seeds you’ve planted grow?
He finished and I smiled at
the worry on his face.
I asked a question of my own,
“Son, do you know your place?
The place you hold within my heart
is yours ‘til Kingdom come,
my love for you won’t be erased,
no matter what you’ve said or done.
So, though you will assert yourself –
you’ll spread your wings and fly –
you’ll always be the son I love,
the true love of my life.”
My son (he's two) is going through what my sister the therapist calls the "primal scream" stage of childhood. As you can imagine, he enjoys screaming. I'm happy, Mommy = SCREAM. I'm sad, Mommy = SCREAM. I'm sleepy, wet, dirty, hungry, full, thirsty, bored, you name it = SCREAM. I can't remember having gone through this with his brother, but I'm sure I did. Whatever part of the brain the ear-splitting screams affect must be the same part that houses my short-term memory. Oh well.
My question to you, the multitudes who read this blog, is, "Would it be wrong of me to sit on the floor with him and scream, too?" Probably, but I think I will, just once. First, though, I'm going to dust off my track shoes and do some endurance training so that when I partake in primal scream therapy and the men with butterfly nets chase me down the street, I'll have a chance to lead them on a merry chase before they shoot me with tranquilizer darts. Sounds like a plan.
See you during visiting hours.
