My Son Doesn’t Listen But I Don’t Care

Of all my kids, my youngest son is definitely the most mentally exhausting. He’s a genius in my humble opinion and depending on the day he’ll use his powers for good or evil. Well, not evil. He’ll use his powers for good or slack.

No matter how many times I tell him not to bring dishes to his room, he will. No matter how many times I tell him not to drink my Cherry cokes, he will. (And the bread and the honey, etc, etc.) Some days, I am so upset about how little he respects my directions and some days, I think in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t matter. Because he has a knack for being there for me when I really need it and he has a smile distract me from whatever I was going to tell him to do.

That smile, right from the beginning. ❤️

I think that is the hardest thing about parenting. Not lack of sleep, not feeding them but the ever looming question of am I doing it right? And I don’t know. But I know this, he loves me. The other day, my Dennis the Menace dog pulled down my crockpot full of dinner in it. I had just prepared it and was so happy that I would not have to deal with dinner later. Next thing I know, my crockpot is broken and my dinner is on the kitchen floor. Well, temporarily on the kitchen floor because there were plenty of dogs nearby to clean it up. I have to admit that I lost it. I mean, who wouldn’t? I was screaming and ranting and maybe throwing out a few choice words that I try not to say but do anyway.

My oldest son and my youngest son both came to see what was happening. I yell talked to them as I explained what was going on and how it was my last pack of meat in the house and how I had no idea what will I would do for dinner now. Antwan interrupted me to say “do you need a hug?” Still yelling, I said “Yes!” He kind of giggled and then hugged me. I thanked him and then I was basically ok. Because sometimes, you just need a hug. My oldest went and got me more ground beef and I made the same meal but on the stove top instead.

It’s times like that when the bowls in his room and the empty Cherry Coke cans that he doesn’t even try to hide, don’t matter to me. And really, I worry about all of that because I want to raise good, kind, considerate humans. And when they tear themselves away from this electronics to come check on me, I know that I have.

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