As a small child, I remember waiting in anticipation as my mother tried to undo the child proof cap on my bottle of Flintstones vitamins. I can still picture myself spinning and hopping up and down on one foot as my mother struggled with the child proof lid. Eventually, she resorted to trying to pry a spoon underneath the cap.
I still remember being shocked as I watched my mother chuck the entire jar of Flintstone vitamins into the kitchen trash can and ask the universe, “Why am I even giving this kid vitamins anyway?”
Maybe it was at that moment that I realized that I was a handful, but let me tell you that it didn’t deter me from my active behavior.
My mouth and my honesty were just another thing that added to my hyper, extroverted personality. From the time that I could speak, I was speaking my mind.
When my sister, eight years my senior, had for some reason mentioned in front of me, that my future brother in law was an atheist, not only did I remember it… I announced it at a family dinner in front of both of my devout Catholic parents. My father almost choked to death on his food and my brother-in-law was as white as a ghost.
I’m sure you can image how smoothly that dinner went.
Fast forward to my current style of parenting and my relationship with John… I think you’ll be able to draw your own conclusions about the “lack of boredom” that exists in our lives.
But here’s the catch, you reap what you sow.
I am now the mother of three outgoing, opinionated boys that have propelled my entire existence into a tailspin.
Touche’.
Since my boys were small, strangers would approach me and say, “I see that you have your hands full.”
It was true.
It was even funny…until it became a theme that I just wanted to avoid.
I have seriously often thought about making myself up a t-shirt that read;
“Yes, I know that I have my hands full. Please don’t bother to approach me and tell me. I’m completely aware.”
I guess that I never acted on it and had the shirt made because the sentiment was just too damned long, or maybe I was too afraid that it wouldn’t deter the large amount of the population that took pleasure in pointing this fact out to me on an almost daily basis.
Nevertheless, I am totally okay with who I am today. I also admire so many things about all of my son’s directness and sense of humor.
I’m the mother that has been called to school because my son Marc apparently is, “a chick magnet.”
I’m the mom that has been threatened with a lawsuit because my son Kevin made a video in detention that has taken on a force of it’s own and had the support of the entire school staff.
And yes, I’m the mom that had to go to Rocky’s defense when he wouldn’t remove his Penguin’s hockey hat at school because he was in dire need of a haircut and refused to take his hat off in class.
I’m a handful.
My kids are a handful.
I am well aware of where all of that stems from.
I guess that I’m just glad that God gave me two hands.
But for now, we’ll all forgo the vitamins, just to be on the safe side.
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