I am in the bathroom with a towel swathed Eli, struggling to clip his tiny toenails while he's perched on the counter.
Granted permission, Jacob proceeds to google: pictures of Tiger Woods' house.
You just never know what your kid is going to be interested in next.
"Mom, look at this. . ." his voice is full of awe as he holds out the phone, scrolling through photo after photo of the golf idol's
"Mommy, is this the ducky towel?" Eli asks, peering suspiciously at his white wrap.
"Yes," I say absently, thinking that Tiger Woods is not someone I want my son to view as successful.
We discuss golf and success and cheating and faithfulness and what's really important and I think that we connected some loose threads and then Eli's offended little voice interrupts:
"Mom this is NOT the ducky towel! There are no ducks on this towel! You said it was the ducky towel but it isn't!"
Sorry, bud, not the ducky towel.
Behind me Jacob voice-googles: pictures of the INSIDE of Tiger Woods' house.
Maybe I didn't connect.
Maybe I didn't listen at the right time to duck towel question, maybe I over criticized the golf hero, maybe I undervalued what was really going on: a normal curiosity about public figures.
It's a wild crazy world out there; a scary one to raise kids in, and I am stretched as I try to meet the intellectual needs of my nine year old, the social needs of my seven year old and the 157 wide and varied needs of my two year old.
Tonight Daniel took us out for pizza and after finishing and driving away, Eli heaved a huge sigh: "It was a busy day. . ." You betcha son, glad you noticed.
I hate busyness for the sake of busyness; my cover photo on facebook is a quote to remind me: stop the glorification of busy. I try so hard to have time for people and carve out moments that really matter, but the truth is life is beyond crazy right now and I am struggling to wrap my fingers around the minutes.
Deep inside there is this huge fear of missing the most important conversations with my kids or failing to connect with my husband. I feel:
Almost every mom I know feels this way; relief at the end of each day tempered by the awareness that sweet sleep may be interrupted by
c) need for a drink at 1 am
d) all of the above
But underneath the exhaustion I am so thrilled to get to be the one to watch them grow and develop and become little people with thoughts and dreams and interests and personalities. It is a privilege. . .
weary, yes, absolutely.
More coffee please.
Also, advice on how to handle celebrity sports figures and their dichotomous lives.