Biting, Kicking & Motherhood

San Francisco, California December 21, 2019

My girls are very high energy. They don’t need much sleep, they don’t eat breakfast, they never get cold, and they will wrestle each other to the ground for no reason. Last spring they bit each other’s ankles and kicked each other in the face. I discovered this when I took my very ladylike daughter to dinner and inquired about the delicate blue bruises along her lovely jaw line. They don’t look like Tom boys, but they will run you over on the ski slope and not look back to get to the bottom first.

Girls.

When they were little and we visited well meaning friends for the first time, they would remind their boys to be “gentle” when playing with our daughters. My late husband and I would exchange knowing glances. I would smile and raise my eye brows.

Not ten minutes later, the boys would come out screaming with their swords. “Don’t mess with Texas,” is all I can say.

When I dropped my youngest off at college in September I went home and shut my door, and then, to be absolutely honest, I locked it. Then, I changed the codes and turned on the alarm. After twenty years of mothering these two I needed more than a break. I needed a hiatus.

Now they are home. To say they undermine my tranquility would be an understatement. They fight and then I find them together watching Disney movies. It truly is maddening. But, I’ve realized they act more like brothers than sisters. Not that they’re not fun to be around. They really are. You just need to have the right stamina.

This morning, I went to mass by myself. I sat in the row behind a beautiful baby girl. She charmed me with her gummy toothless smile and it reminded me to have patience with my own little ones. To my right was a very pregnant woman sitting by herself. I watched her kneel and pray and I remember doing that myself not so long ago. I prayed in exactly the same way for the safe delivery of both of my children.

I left church feeling grateful for my children and this beautiful holiday season that I am blessed to spend with them. Even though, they do act like boys, I realized that no matter how many missed workouts, and late night pizza binges they force me (entirely unwillingly) to participate in, I’m never happier than I am when I am with them.

Love and blessings to all.

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