Friday, May 4, 2012

Public Lovin'

One of the absolute greatest parts of parenting is being able to walk hand in hand with one or both of my kids. To me, the only thing that comes even close to that amazing of a feeling is when I get an unexpected hug from one of them out of the complete blue. I guess you could say it helps to make up for all those other times when I want to jam hot coals in my eyes and duct tape them to their kitchen chairs. And as awesome as it is to have them by my side, I know the time is coming all too quickly when they will want absolutely nothing to do with me whatsoever.

I remember when I was so mortified to be seen with my own parents that I would have them drop me off all the way around the corner so that none of my friends would see that I did, in fact, just exit a silver station wagon being driven by my beaming mom. And God forbid either of them ever try to put an arm around me or blow me a kiss. I would rather have been tortured by a pack of rabid raccoons than be subjected to any kind of public displays of parental affection.

And now that I am a parent myself, I cannot even imagine how agonizing that must have been for them. Sure it happened little by little, but it had to be like a knife slowly being shoved right into your gut. My mom always says that it absolutely broke her heart the day that I stopped holding her hand in public. I guess she knew deep down that it was the beginning of the end of my childhood innocence. And sure enough, I gradually transformed into this horrific teenage creature who spent far too much time telling them how much they sucked. How lovely to have your insides ripped out bringing this person into the world who is now embarrassed to even be in your presence.

So, in order to avoid this whole heart-wrenching experience, I’ve decided to make my shorties sign a legal-binding contract written up by a legitimate attorney promising that they will ALWAYS hold my hand and hug me. Failure to do so will result in consequences of some kind or another. Sure it’s not the most warm and fuzzy way to get some human contact from my offspring, but hey, sometimes a mama’s gotta do what a mama’s gotta do. And these kids are gonna love me whether they want to or not, dag nabbit!

1 comment:

  1. My seven year old son insists on walking with his arms wrapped around my waist, it makes it really hard to walk but I know I'll miss it when he's older and won't want to even want to walk on the same side of the street as me. Thanks for stopping over at our blog, I started following yours.