That sounds like a recipe, doesn’t it? In some ways, it is. Lately, I’ve found it’s been a recipe that creates what Jean + Motherhood equals; each day, I discover what it is to be the Mom that I am and what it is to the person I am by being the kind of mother I am.
Does that sound confusing? Yeah. Life usually is.
At 7pm last night, I received a text from Nathan. It said, “So, here’s the deal. You need me to babysit tomorrow.” “Babysit” was in quotes; reading between the quotes, this kind of text always meant, “Mom, I need you to tell a white lie, so I can do something I know Dad won’t let me.”
As I’ve said before, it seems that Nathan loves both his parents; however, it’s clear that we each have a parental role we play. Quinn’s is the “bad cop.” I am the “good cop.”
Last night, Nathan needed the good cop. Without even having to think or ask about it, I texted back, “I am meeting with my financial planner. Can you babysit?” Actually, that wasn’t a lie. I was supposed to meet with my financial planner, but Sunday left me a single-parent for a week, and I hadn’t cancelled the appointment yet.
To cut to the chase, I called Nathan; I asked him what was up with Monday night. After all these years, I should have known better. He said, “Mom, Call of Duty: Black Ops comes out at midnight. Can I drive to Game Stop and pick it up?”
I had never been into computer games. Quite frankly, when I played them, they stressed me out more than everyday life did. But, I respected Nathan’s right to be excited about Call of Duty like he respected my right to listen to ABBA.
Okay, Nathan had never respected my right to listen to any of the music I listened to; of course, when I was 17 did I respect any of the music that my parents listened to? Actually, my parents didn’t listen to any music that I remember and how weird was that? I always knew I was adopted!!!!
I told Nathan it was fine if he wanted to go out and buy his game at midnight on my watch. We synchronized Swatches, and I was going to fetch him after his soccer playoff game today. When I got off the phone, I texted him with “Yes. I will be at my financial planners, so it would be great if you could babysit,” thinking he might need an alibi text to show to his Dad.
Nathan texted me back with, “Yeah, when are you going to be home? Don’t stay out too late. It’s a school night.” I was trying to supply him with a text alibi, and he wasn’t playing along. I then texted that I would be home by 10pm to which he texted, “Saucesome.”
Saucesome? What happened to awesome? Recently, I realized how little I knew about current actresses, when I read a story and said, “Who the hell is Demi Lovato?” Now, I was losing track of the lingo too!
I then said, “I thought you might need a text trail for your Dad.” Nathan said, “Hahaha. Well, maybe.” Of course, to add insult to “good cop” injury and obviously my text acting was bad, Nathan asked, “Why 10pm? What financial planner works ‘til 10pm?”
I was now asked to defend my fake get-Nathan-out-of-Dad’s-house-for-the-night plan. I wanted to say, “Hello, Nathan?” I said, “Well, I’m not going. But, he works in Waltham, I was going to meet him after 6pm, and I’m sure I wouldn’t be home ‘til late.” Nathan said, “Alright, no biggie. Just making sure you’re not off doing meth or crack or something.”
I laughed out loud, and then I wanted to ring his neck but in a nice Mom way. He asked me to cover for him, which I did. Then, he scrutinized my fake plan, and I was just about ready to say, “Scratch the mission!”
I answered with “Me?!?!? No. I’m just high on Maine Coon cats.” He said, “My Dad said I could go.” After all that, it was a plan, a saucesome plan.
Did I feel guilty? No, because Nathan and I were kindred spirits. I think he knew that.
I had finally realized it about the two of us today. Like I went to NYC to see a musician I adored perform from 11pm-1am, which some might think a bit crazy, he wanted to pick up a game he adored at midnight. I “got” the thrill of being there and being in the moment for something you loved; his Dad, and probably many others, didn’t.
Today, I got a text from Nathan shortly after noon telling me that his soccer playoff game at 2pm was cancelled. Thank goodness, because sitting on a wet soccer field when it was 45 degrees outside with the wind whipping was the last place I wanted to be this afternoon. I told him, “Go to your Dad’s. I’ll fetch you at 4pm.”
He said, “Walk in the rain. Fun.”
I asked, “Can’t you take the bus?”
He answered, “Uhh, no. I didn’t buy a bus pass this year. It’s ok. I’ll just walk in the rain…alone. Maybe I’ll catch pneumonia and die. But, no, it’s okay. I’ll manage. Wasting away as sleet and hail descend upon me. I’ll be okay. No, really. No harm done.”
I was so overwhelmed with the stress of work, I didn’t really process his response with the parental “bull” detector. I resorted to my basic instincts which were, “OMG. I have to go get him!”
I asked, “Can’t Connor drive you home?” I then reread his previous message and thought, “Hey, wait a minute. If I didn’t know any better, you were competing with your sister, Iz, for that Wrongly Treated Child Academy Award!” Nathan text me back with, “I’m getting a ride with Joey. I was just busting your chops!”
I frowned, then I smiled. I then thought, “Hell, I want to ring his neck," But, at the same time, I wanted to give him the Academy Award for the Wrongly Treated Child with that stellar text message; he was so much better than Iz, but maybe that came with age.
I texted him back with “Sigh. Like I needed that!!!!!” He texted me back with “I’ll be dying in the cold. No worries.” I laughed out loud, and then the phone rang.
It was Nathan. I almost didn’t want to pick up. I feared that the first words out of his mouth would be, “Mom, I’m pregnant,” not unlike they were a few months ago.
I answered, and he said, “Mom, Joey is going to drive tonight. Can he just sleep over?” Gasp! They were going to pick up their game at a store located in Joey’s town; however, Joey would have to go to the store, drive them all home, and then go back home. I said, “Sure.”
Nathan asked, “Can he have supper with us?” I said, “Yes. I’m making spaghetti.” Nathan said, “Oh, spaghetti,” as if “spaghetti” were only one rung below “Call of Duty: Black Ops.”
I told Nathan I had to stop on the way home to get a few things. He said, “Okay,” and then I hung up. I went to the store, and while I was there, I stopped in the “Health and Beauty Aid” aisle; I got something for Joey.
When I arrived home, I was greeted by a barking dog and a very excited Iz, who said, as if I didn’t know, “Mom, Joey’s here!!!” I said, “I know, Iz. He’s staying over.” She asked, “Really?!?!?!?”
I put away the groceries, fed the pets, and then I headed upstairs. I heard Nathan say quite warmly, “Hi, Mom!” I walked into his room, and then I pulled out my purchase from the “Health and Beauty Aid” aisle.
Nathan said, “Thanks, Mom!” when I whipped out the new blue toothbrush. I said, “It’s for Joey,” to which Joey said, “I have one, but thanks!” I said, “I thought if I was staying at someone’s house unexpectedly, what’s the thing I would want most? Minty fresh breath before sleep and after!” He laughed, and then I said, “Nathan, it’s all yours then.”
After dinner, Nathan gave me a hard time about something trivial. I said, "Hey, your Dad would never let you do this!" He answered, "Yes. I know. That's why you're the fun parent."
Tonight was all about Jeanhood. It was an interesting cross between motherhood and me. I was letting my son do something that was quite different.
Most parents probably wouldn’t let him do what I was going to let him do tonight, but I knew it was something we both shared – a passion for being there when it all happened, no matter the time nor the place. Tonight, I wasn’t there for my favorite musician in NYC, but I was there for my son. I hoped he’d have a good thrill and then come home safe from his exciting adventure just like I always did. ♥
No comments:
Post a Comment