The Joy of Children

My Zach had a birthday today; he turned seven. I told him it’s time he started looking for a job and getting a place of his own. He just grinned and said, “Mom, c’mon,” as if I were a lunatic. I shook my head, and sighed, “Alright, I’ll give you until you’re eight, but that’s my final decision.” He just laughed at me; he’s too cute. I can’t believe he’s seven already. I can remember having him and holding him for the first time. I said to him the same thing I’d said to Tyler when he was born 18 months earlier, and the same thing I’d say to Dolly when she was born three years later: I cradled Zach in my arms, looked into his beautiful, newborn face and said, “Happy Birthday. It’s nice to finally meet you.” I was in love from the moment I saw him, and his siblings, of course.

I don’t think there is any greater love than a mother has for a child. Granted, there are some women who should never have been permitted to have children; but me, I wanted all of my children and I think the love I feel for them is stronger than anything I’ll ever know. That’s not to say they don’t drive me insane some days, and it doesn’t mean we don’t have our ups and downs, but to look at their faces when they’re asleep, or deep in thought, or just staring at something in wonder makes me fall in love with them all over again. I can have a really bad day and when I check on my kids right before I go to sleep, and I give them one more kiss on their sleeping faces, whatever happened during the day just melts away. Nothing is so bad that the face of a beautiful sleeping child can’t erase. Those same faces can be extremely hilarious at times too.

I remember when Tyler was four we still lived in the house their dad left us in. Ty was running from my bedroom on one side of the house through the living room to the big, over-stuffed rocking/recliner we had that sat on the far end of the room. He came running in as fast as four-year-old legs can run and leapt onto the recliner, bounced on the seat, and completely off the other side. He landed on the floor with a thud, reached his little hands up to grasp the over-stuffed arm of the chair, pulled himself to standing and stared at me like he was a miniature drunk – a little unsteady, not quite sure of what had just happened, and totally undecided about how to respond. The moment I saw his little dazed face, I burst into laughter, unable to stop at any cost. The whole thing had happened so quickly, and the look on his face was so stunned and adorable, that my laughter was automatic and uncontrollable. Once Ty saw me laughing, he also started laughing and just went on with his day. Zach is just as funny at times.

When he was three, and Ty was almost five, we still lived in that same house. The three of us would sit at the table for dinner. Zach would stand up on his chair, put his hands out in front of him to quiet the crown, I guess, and announce, “A Poem, by Zachary Manski.” (He had trouble pronouncing his last name at that age.) He’d turn his back to Ty and me, he’d wiggle a little bit and clear his throat, as if he was getting into character, then he returned to facing us. He’d look at us with as serious a face as he could muster and would recite whatever came into his head; something as simple as, “A bee flew onto a yellow flower, then flew off, then went home. Thank you.” Then he’d sit down and go back to eating without even looking up while Ty and I just started at him in amazement. A few seconds later he’d look up at us, say, “What?” then shrug his shoulders and go back to eating. Then Ty and I had to laugh – there was no other choice. Dolly, although not as creative, is just as funny as her brothers at times.

In November of last year a new show premiered on Nickelodeon. It’s called “Big Time Rush” and it’s about four hockey-playing best friends who get picked to be the next big boy group. The stars are 19 and 20, I believe, but play 16 year olds. Since the show only premiered and wasn’t due to start the weekly episodes until January, my kids watched the hour-long premiere every time it was on, and constantly once it hit OnDemand. I knew the theme song by heart and was beginning to recite the show in my sleep. Anyway, they all wanted to watch if for the twelfth day in a row, I think. When I asked what the big deal was, Ty and Zach gave their answers: “I like the music,” and “It’s funny;” but when Dolly gave her answer, I just about busted a gut. She looked right at me, put her hands on her hips, rolled her eyes, and said, “Because the guys are hot, DUH!!” Now, I’ll admit, I’m old enough to be their mother, but the guys on the show are attractive; I wish I could find a guy my own age who looks as good as these guys do, but Dolly was three when she said that to me. Are three-year-old girls supposed to be thinking guys are hot? Do they even know what hot is? Holy crow. She is too much sometimes.

I don’t know about my kids; they can be loving one minute, and hateful the next. They make me angry, they make me cry, they hurt my feelings, they ignore me; but they also make me laugh so hard I can’t breathe, they warm my insides better than any cup of tea, they shower me with kisses and hugs, they make me want to be the best person I can possibly be, they’ve helped me know a love like no other. There is nothing on Earth I wouldn’t do for my kids, and, regardless of what happens between us, I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. There is also one thing I know with absolute certainty, no question about it: I love them with every ounce of my being; they are my sun, my moon, my world – they are my children.

Until tomorrow…peace to all.