I usually keep pretty quiet about my kiddos. I’ve mentioned why before, but in the three years this blog has been alive, I’ve written special posts about two of my three children, my oldest Jessica and my youngest Drew. To this day they are still two of my favourite pieces and the one about Jess makes me cry, Every – Single – Time. Uh-Oh. If you haven’t read that one you better click and see what I wrote!
Those posts were easy to drum up for many reasons – they were situational, emotional, and a bit funny – but for some reason when I tried the same angle and approach with Benjamin I just couldn’t make it work. All my unpublished drafts are evidence of how hard I tried. And not writing about him wasn’t an option because I would always feel guilty and worried that it would appear he wasn’t as special or I loved him less or I was embarrassed because he was a bank robber…you know the normal concerns.
The longer I didn’t write about Ben, the more weird and frustrating it was for me. Shouldn’t your child, who you love and adore, who you sacrifice and slave over, who you miraculously brought into this world – WITHOUT DRUGS!! – be the easiest person on the planet to write about? You’d think. I’ve even gone and written a post about our dog for crying out loud…but I did call him a jerk…so that one doesn’t really count.
And then I realized why it was so difficult – it had nothing to do with Benjamin, it was me!
Everything I attempted to write made me appear like a mother who had pulled her braggy pants up way too high and was prancing all over the place – which made me very uncomfortable. However, I think braggy pants pulled up way too high would make any one uncomfortable, not just me. But that’s the kind of kid Ben is. He can make me sound like an overly proud parent with just about anything he does. I can even come off braggy telling you at 7 he would wake up early and organize his sock drawer! See? Braggy. Or weird, depending on what angle you want to read this from. For right now, because I’m supporting a point, lets just say it sounds like Im uber proud of my 7 year old’s outstanding organizational and cleaning abilities, okay?!
Ben is one of those kids where most things come very easy to him, and for some reason this plummets me head first into un-wordiness. Which is sad really, because there are so many great things about his personality I absolutely adore and want to write about. I love how he pours every fiber of his being into everything he does with a spirited energy that’s highly contagious. I love how he will always stick up for and protect his younger brother and vows to share a room with him while insisting their twin beds are squished tightly together till forever. I love how he never wants his sister to get in trouble and will often take the punishment even if it wasn’t his fault. I love how he gets angry at me when I make him late. I love how he still wants to sleep with his blanket and has no problem holding my hand or crawling into bed with me in the morning even though he’ll be 10 in a week. I love how his eyes twinkle and shine when he laughs. I love how he prays for his friends and is not shy to tell the neighbourhood kids Jesus loves them. And best of all, I love that pure joy lives way down in his soul. The kind of joy I wish I could harvest, bottle, and sell at the local five and dime, because I’d sell loads and make a fortune. It’s so hard to talk about a kid like that without coming off as a mother who thinks her kid is a cut above the rest. Or even worse, over shadows his two other siblings, and looks like the favoured one.
So I left him sitting un-published in my drafts folder. Poor Benny.
Until now, when I finally came to some resolution.
This is where I landed. I’m his mother. I’m suppose to brim with pride and joy about who he is and all his successes large or small. I may not do it every day…but some days I’d like to put on my Benny braggy pants and take a little walk in them without feeling uncomfortable or guilty. That’s one of the silver linings of being a mom. We get to think the sun rises and sets on our kids and that is A-Okay.
All three of my children are great, they aren’t perfect – far from it – but that’s what I love about being their mom. To me they will always be wonderful no matter what.