My hands are too cold to be a mom.

I get “corpse fingers” (Reynaud’s disease) when I get cold.  I can’t help.  It is gross.  My fingers (and toes) turn white, lose sensation, and don’t bend easily.  As I warm up they turn red and tingle.  It isn’t all that painful, just a little uncomfortable.  The painful part of the whole thing is when I go to touch one of my kids and they wince, pull away and sometimes scream.  I don’t blame them.  Nobody likes to be touched with ice cubes. I get it, but it doesn’t mean I don’t get bummed out.

One of the million things nobody warned me about being a parent is that you need NEED a thick skin and healthy sense of humor.

Examples from recent memory:

A: I don’t like it when you touch me with those hands.  (I already explained that one.)

A: You talk too much. (True…ish)

A: You laugh too much. (Lots of things are funny!  Anyway, I thought that was a good thing.)

A: You are boring.  (No I am not! I am just tired.)

A: The house is messy.  (Agreed, but it is mostly his fault.)

E: We are working on saying Ma-Me (mommy) because Ma sounds too much like “milk” and “more”.  Granted, those all used to mean essentially the same thing.  Now it is confusing.  He can say it, I have heard it.  Right now I will say, “Ephraim can you say, ‘mommy’?” He will keep a straight face, hesitate, and then say, “Alastair” (his brother) or “Teacher” (the dog).  He usually giggles after he does it.  (Little devil.)

E: He gives great kisses and I want them all the time.  Sometimes I will ask for a kiss and he will go grab a stuffed animal and shove it in my face and then walk away smirking.  (Again, little devil.)

A: Within the same 30 seconds Alastair has told me my breath smells bad and he likes the smell of the car exhaust.  (Seriously?  I know coffee breath is bad.  I agree, but it is hard to hear that your breath is bad from a kid who enjoys the smell of exhaust.)

A: You car is too dirty. (I am not the one eating Goldfish in the backseat!)

Here is the kicker…

This is this year’s Thanksgiving card he made at school. That is me.  Right there at the bottom of the list.  First on the list is Target?  Yes, he is most thankful for the retail store.  Brother and dog are next.  Daddy got a decent spot.  Hugs and “doing work” (work is what they call the activities they do in Montessori) gets the next spot.  That is pretty sweet, except I know it is in reference to his Directress whom he LOVES.  I am last.  If he had thought of one more thing I would have been out of the running all together.

I get more than enough of sweetness from my kids.  I appreciate every compliment (I make the world’s BEST scrambled eggs!) and show of affection if get.  I live for them.  I have to be honest though, when I became a parent, I expected them.  Who wouldn’t?  I did not expect the criticism.  I mentioned this to my mother, she laughed, and sarcastically said, “I wonder where they got that from?”.  My mother is seriously enjoying watching me get a little of what I gave.  I don’t blame her.  I was pretty wicked.

I know she is reading this.

Mom, I apologize for the thousandth time for my youthful mouth and attitude and thank you for resisting the understandable impulse to have my lips sewn together until I reached adulthood.

I only hope I can be as strong.