It’s a new year. If you haven’t caught that, you might be dead… sorry to break it to you. But the new year. As I blogged the other day, for many, it can be a great time to start new goals. To recalibrate. To alter focus.
Along with my new goals for this new year, I’ve also decided to start a new tradition. I’ve decided that with each new year, I will pen a letter to my three sons. A letter to share my advice, and insights about the current day. And then, some day, in the I’m-not-sure-when future {but verrrrry future}, I will give them the letters from each year, and they can laugh at them. Or throw them away. Or scour and soak up every word. I can imagine which boy would do each of those things, should their current personalities persist… which I imagine they will. I’ve written advice here for them in the past. The hubs and I shared Barrett’s ABCs for Kindergarten… and on a few other occasions {here and here} but I like the idea of writing them recurring letters… at a time of year when optimism is king. And my rose-colored glasses are perfectly placed. So 2015… the first year of a new tradition…
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A letter to my three sons-
Three sons. I don’t know that I ever saw that coming. I mean, before I had a first son. I think I thought I’d have a boy, a girl, and another boy or girl. I don’t know that I knew what it would feel like to look at each of you, the first time I put my arms around you, and realize that I didn’t care at all what you were — boy or girl — as long as you were you. That’s something that I won’t ever be able to articulate enough.
But as a mama to you three, there are things I am learning. Your energy is bottomless. I mean, truly. At your current ages of 5, 3, and 1, I’ve taken to wearing yoga pants every day… and yet, I don’t do yoga currently. But I spend a lot of time on the floor. A lot of time playing tag. A lot of time coloring. A lot of time doing activities that are far too active to be restricted by jeans. And you would all agree… and refuse to wear anything but slicky pants… unless church is involved. Another thing you’re teaching me… three under 5 in your house is a louder decibel level than Memorial Stadium during the spring game… I’m just sure of it. I am sure the noise is retribution for the noise I created as a child… which I am reminded often, by many, was plentiful and constant. I want you to know though, that I don’t wish that noise away. I want you to be here… at home… with us… and be loud… for as long as you’d like {I do, however, reserve the right to tell you each to grow up and move out if you’re just mooching and being lazy. Just to get that out there}. I have also learned that the word penis is commonplace in a house with all boys. I use it almost as often as I use the word the in daily convo. And it doesn’t even cause me to miss a beat. Because it’s just part of the boy mom schtick.
This is a stage in your lives where you have the most energy, and I have the least. You love to play with each other. You are lovers though… much so less than fighters. I have to think this may change over the next couple of years {errrr, months?} as you start to throw down the guantlet over disagreements. But for now, I love the friendship, especially the two oldests have. You are each growing by light years with every sleep and meanwhile, I am discovering my neck skin starting to waggle and my smile lines growing deeper. The smile lines, I credit to you, and your dad, so if I complain about them someday, let me know that means I’m complaining about you, and I’ll stop. The neck, well, gravity happens, kids.
2015 is the year… we do not currently have a landline in favor of cell phones {and I am certain when you read this, you will be wondering what the heck is a landline}. We have been talking ad nauseum about the fact that beef is as much as $5.99 a lb at a conventional grocery store. Gas is currently less than $2.00 a gallon which is pretty much the best thing since Netflix was invented. Cell phones are going in reverse and most everyone has a mobile the size of a Zack Morris phone circa 1992. Your dad and I are going on a big vacay later this year to celebrate 10 years of marriage… and this is becoming a little more common as the divorce rate is starting to drop again after having been at 50% for a decade or so. Barack Obama is the prez, Ebola made a resurgence recently, and Taylor Swift just makes hits. Also, the grandpa on Gilmore Girls just passed away… And if you don’t know why that is sad, we haven’t raised you right {just kidding. Kind of}. That’s a small snippet of the world as we know it.
Each year, I want to give you a little advice… some, applicable at any stage… some, not until way down the road. But I am writing as I think of them… and that way, when you need it, it’s here.
1. Put down the toilet seat.
I know. I am severely outnumbered in this house but have a little decency and make a habit out of putting down the toilet seat. There’s the lid on the toilet, there’s the middle seat, and then there’s the bare bones bottom rim. For the love of your mama, please please please, put down the middle seat before you exit the bathroom. I don’t care that I am currently the only female living in your house. Nobody… women or otherwise, wants to get a surprise butt bath in the middle of the night when a seat has been mysteriously left ajar. I understand that I could just put the seat down each time I enter. But NO. And seriously, it’s just cleaner to not have to see your pee dribble left behind. So just do it, please.
2. Always say please and thank you.
I am a manner nazi. You pretty much know this by now. And I feel like if I’m going to use the word nazi, that may be the only acceptable way. But I love to hear pleases and thank yous. And yes… even if they are disingenuious. The world can use a little more kindness. Be the one to put it there. You boys have kind hearts. Share them with the world.
3. Read everything you can.
Reading is collecting knowledge. To my oldest boy who is truly a reading machine… keep it up. I will always buy each of you any books you want {as long as they are appropriate.}. I am willing to sign up for that now. Knowledge is power, boys. Knowledge is power.
4. Be nice to your brother.
We’ve given you each two. Two siblings. So even though you may be mad at one, you’ve got another. You may not always agree, or see the same side of things, or even have the same interests. But support and love and stick up for your brothers. And I’m here to tell you, if you do it right, when you get big and have your own families, your siblings will still be your favorite people. Your relationships and even you, will change with time, but through it all, you will have a family connection that you won’t have with anyone else. And that is pretty freakin’ cool.
5. Play the field and don’t play games.
Date around {note: I did not say screw around… I’m guessing by the time you read this, there will have been some sort of discussion about the difference between the two}. It’s healthy to figure out what you do want in a mate by firguring out what you don’t want. But don’t be a jackass. Be respectful. Be gentlemen. And for goodness sakes… be upfront and honest. People don’t like liars. And you’ll just feel smarmy if you’re playing games. And no one wants to feel smarmy. Trust me.
6. Never Stop Dancing.
I can’t say it enough. No matter the age, dancing is just good for the soul. Never have I finished a kitchen dancing session with you boys, or did I dance in the kitchen in my home growing up, or even, did I attend a dance class, and thought I wish I wouldn’t have wasted that time. Dancing. Laughing through the music. There’s just something about it that makes the world right. If only just for a bit.
7. Say how you feel.
Don’t think that because you’re dudes, you can’t have emotions. I know that your father will not set that example, but just in case you don’t get the message, emotions are okay. Happy, sad, proud, angry, confused… whatever the emotion… feel free to share them. But if you are thinking that you hate me or your dad, keep that to yourself. Hate is a strong word. And it carries a lot of weight. You don’t hate me. You just think I’m dumb right now. And if you say you hate me… well, you can’t take that back.
8. Know we are always here.
If you don’t care about any of the advice I share… please grab hold to this one piece and never let it go. Your father and I are always here for each one of you. We will always love you. We will always want to hear your thoughts. Keep talking to us. Even life gets hard, or busy. Know that no matter how old, how grown, or where you are… we are always here. I can’t possibly imagine an instance in which this would not be true.
9. Don’t spit out your food at the table.
Currently, you seem to think this is acceptable. If you are dissatisfied with the taste or texture of something, you screech and then spit it out. I should hope within the next few years, this behavior will cease. If it doesn’t, I will have to stop cooking for you and you will have to put your own Eggo waffles in the toaster. How do you like that?
10. Make this day count.
I feel like that’s a lot of pressure to put on you. But we are going to put pressure on you. We are expecting great things. Don’t ever use the excuse that we don’t. So make each day count… for you. Life is just a blip and time goes faster every day. It’s weird like that. But it’s true. Make each day yours. I think you’ll find a way. You are three of the brightest lights I’ve ever known.
To my three sons… you teach me more daily than I ever learned in school. And that’s good because you cost a lot more than my degree… just kidding… kind of. I am excited for all of the love and memories you’ve given me so far and am looking forward to a lifetime more.
To new traditions-
Mom
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Will this become a new tradition for you? If so, what type of advice would you give your children for the future? I have plenty more where this came from, of course… but small digestible bits… one year at a time… that’s how I’m rockin’ it.
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