Being a mom is mostly a slog. I enjoyed having a 9-to-5 job with measurable goals and a paycheck, and after 15 years I still am amazed that my days are built around housework, driving duties and discussions of the latest developments in Anime.
What I'd love, really, is a visitor from the future telling me that all this is really worth it. That the Sons will grow up to be happy, successful, confident, strong, decent men with tight-knit families of their own.
In the mean time, mostly, I cross my fingers. I hug the Sons. I grade their math work, keep track of their reading lists, sign them up for art classes and tae kwon do, and remind them that the experiments in their science textbooks are NOT optional. I make them eat a carrot, now and then. And I figure, well, I am doing what I can. Which is good, up to a point, but not always reassuring.
This week, Son 1 and Son 2 each came up to me and said something basically tailor-made to help me feel I am maybe on the right track.
"When I have kids, I'm going to send them to school when they're small, and then home school them for the middle years, and then send them to high school. Just like you did. Because I am so glad I'm not like those kids who went to school, the whole way through. And I'd hate for my kids to turn out that way."
I don't know if they'll always feel that way. I don't even really care if that's what they end up doing with their families. But it sure feels good to have two of the Sons tell me they think I've been doing right by them. Especially at an age when so many other kids have nothing but contempt for their parents.
I am one lucky chick.