“YOU DON’T LOVE ME!”

Standard

Hey Kids,

In one of my last posts, I mentioned how no matter what you do, I will always love you. One of my friends read it and asked me if I’ve gotten the, “YOU DON’T LOVE ME!” yet. Luckily, I haven’t but I’m sure someday, when you’re not getting something you want, like a video game or a car or a boyfriend’s approval, I’m going to hear it.

When that happens, I’m going to say something like, “Come on now, you know that’s not true,” and you’re going to say, “IT IS SO TRUE!” and then you’re going to try to think of ways to prove it. Well, I’ve decided to make it easier for you.

Here is a list of things that I’m currently doing and probably will still be doing when you are looking for the evidence of my un-love.

  • I yell at you. More than any of us would like.
  • I feel joy when Daddy offers to take all three of you out for a while. And maybe – just maybe – I express that joy out loud. With jubilance.
  • I don’t make it to every single school event like the Walk-a-Thon or Field Day or Readers Showcase. USUALLY I’m missing one to attend another, but I’ll admit, once in a blue moon, I’m missing one to attend Starbucks.
  • Sometimes when you ask me to play with you, I say Sorry, I can’t because I’m working. Heh heh. And I know that that particular jig will be up soon but so far you’re still buying it, so I’m still selling it.

Side note: When you do start to question my computer work, you should know that these are just a few of things I’m doing on the computer instead of playing our 18th game of War.

      • Researching your summer plans like art camp, lacrosse camp, ice hockey camp, general sports camp, swim lessons, swim camp, all-around sports and swim camp, space camp, music camp, farm camp.
      • Vacation planning: checking out drivable family resorts, dude ranches, amusement parks, houses in the Outer Banks, things to do in the car for twelve hours when you drive to the Outer Banks, legal and safe ways to drug your kids when you need to be in the car for twelve hours.
      • Shopping for clothes that have no tags, no seams, no ruffles, nothing but soft, loose fabric and nothing scratchy whatsoever. Oh and for “sports shorts and sports shirts… because that’s the only things I like,” says the Nibbit.
      • Dealing with official second grade class mom business and preschool politics – field trips and teacher gifts and end-of-the-year parties, oh my.
      • Organizing playdates and buying birthday party presents and more swim goggles.
      • Googling “Swimming Candy Birthday Parties… with Animals.”
      • Sure, it’s possible that I dropped in on Facebook for a minute here and there, but even THAT was to complain brag about you guys!

You get the point. Stop whining about my WORK. It’s important. For all of us.

  • I make you taste foods you KNOW you’ll HATE because they’re DISGUSTING. And then, to make matters worse, I refuse to give you brownie sundaes every single day.
  • I force you to look people in the eye and say, “Hello,” or “Thank you for the ride” or “Thank you for having me to your house for three hours and feeding me a nicer meal than I would have gotten at home.”
  • I get distracted when you’re asking me questions like “How is paper made?” or “Can we play Candyland every day, all the time?” or “Yesterday, when I was born, was it raining?” (all real questions)
  • I encourage you to try new things like riding a two-wheeler or putting your dirty laundry in the laundry basket or sleeping past 6-0-0.
  • I throw away some of your art. A lot of your art. Most of your art. But c’mon, is it really “ART?”
  • I say, “… in a minute!” too often. And then make you wait a tiny bit longer than that.
  • I’m always making you brush your teeth or go to the bathroom or change into clothes or pajamas or clean up your toys or [insert any of the many things I’m currently nagging you about when this becomes relevant].
  • I won’t always play one more game, give five more minutes, sing one more song or stay just a little longer.

OK, is that enough “proof” for you to throw at me? Go ahead, sling it. I’m ready.

But here’s the thing –  you will NEVER be more wrong than the day you think – or yell – that I don’t love you. There isn’t a more wrong sentiment in the world. That’s the absolute wrongest.

No matter how much I nag or how mean I am, regardless of my unfair rules or my embarrassing ways and most importantly, no matter how misunderstood you feel, you should always know that you are LOVED. You are my most important work. Even more important than shopping on Zappos.

You guys, you know I always want you to be happy. But that’s a tricky thing to say because right now, you would say, “Then just give me ice cream everyday!” and in a few years, you’ll say, “Then just trust that I won’t do anything stupid and let me stay out all night!” And so it goes.

I DO want you to be happy but not at the expense of the physical or emotional well-being of yourselves or others. So I’m not always going to give you what you think you need for happiness – a toy, a snack, permission. In fact, I will probably be saying no a LOT for the next 20 years.

But that will NEVER EVER EVER mean that I don’t love you. In fact, it will usually mean quite the opposite. And that is something you will probably not understand until if and when you have a kid of your own.

Because I do love you. No matter what you do. No matter where you go. No matter who you are. 

So go ahead yell “YOU DON’T LOVE ME!” all you want. You will NEVER be more wrong.

xoxo
Mom

PS. This is all true for Dad, too. He’ll probably say “no” even more than I will… but he loves you forever, too.
PPS. It’s likely that I’ve said some of this exact same stuff in past posts or letters to you guys. But this is a message that doesn’t get old. So roll your eyes and say, “Maaaaa! You already told us that like 100 times!” I don’t care. I still love you. See?

 

BIRTHS

6 responses »

  1. Save this in a handy place. I am absolutely sure that you will need it on a number of occasions.
    Your, absolute, unending, unequivocal, categorical statement of love will mean more and more to them as they get older, even if they say “Arggh!” when they hear it .

    T

  2. Where did you stay on your 40 hours alone in NYC?
    I live in Cal
    Headed “home” to Jersey and I am ditching my kids to do a similar trip?

    • Hi Erin,

      I stayed at the downtown Standard, but full disclosure: the room was TINY. Small rooms are pretty typical for New York City but this one was exceptionally small. Have a great trip… I’m jealous… I would love to relive my Weekend of Freedom!

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