I love my husband, my brother, my friends, my cousins, my nephews, my grandmother, my aunts and uncles, and yes, my parents. And I love my son. But having my son gives me new appreciation (and pity!) for my parents.
You see, I have an easy kid. And I'm sure I was not one, at least, not all the time. And for as easy as my kid is, sometimes he drives me nutso! I struggle to understand my own love for him. I mean, I always love him. And I usually like him. But there are some days, I just can't wait for hubby to get home and let me take a break, even for five minutes. I'll run an errand, meet a friend for coffee, go to the grocery store, or just sit on my duff. And it's a wonderful, well-needed break. Then I start to miss him.
It's silly, I know. I think to myself, "I can get in and out of the grocery really fast without having to keep him entertained or let him flirt with every person we see. I don't have to try to feed him a cookie while pushing the shopping cart, keeping him from eating the bag of frozen peas, emptying my wallet, and pulling things off the shelf. This is gonna be great!" But I miss him when he's not there. He's great fun to shop with (most of the time.) And I think sometimes I miss him because he's basically an excuse, a free pass, to be silly. If I run around WalMart or shove the cart ahead of me, then chase it down the aisle without a giggling child in said cart, I'm pretty sure everyone else would think I was crazy. (Well, not ALL the people at WalMart would judge. )
Somehow, having my son frees me to be even more me than ever before. And I think that's why its somewhat of a dichotomy. I love him even though he sometimes makes me nuts. Turns out, I love me, but I often drive myself nuts as well. So, to my parents and my child I say, "Sorry!"
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