A few weeks ago I posted a picture of the kids on Instagram with a quiet plea that they are always as close of friends as they are now. 90% of the time, they are two peas in a pod. I don’t know if that’s due to their personalities or the fact that we don’t live in a neighborhood so they are each others only option, but they really are great friends.  The other 10% of the time, they are feral animals who can’t be in the same room as each other, but that’s normal right?

When the Hubs and I thought about having a 3rd child – something we debated for a long time – the driving factor for me is that I wanted one of my kids to have a same-gender sibling. In my mind, the Bean having a sister or Scorch having a brother meant they would always have a best friend for life. I know it’s not that simple, but in my head, that’s the way it works. But neither one of us was ever on the 3rd child train at the same time and then time passed and we realized, quite frankly, that we had no desire to add a newborn/toddler back to a relatively peaceful life with big kids. So, these two are it.

And these two are getting so big so damn fast. So. Damn. Fast. One is turning 10 soon and one is turning 8. I read other mommy blogs and I realize that I can’t relate anymore. I don’t really  have picky eaters. I sleep most nights. My boobs have been my own for the past 6 years. I haven’t changed a diaper except by choice in over 5.5 years. There are still issues- and some of them are biggies as the kids get older- but no one really talks about this stage/age.

Regardless of how old they get, my overwhelming urge to cement  the friendship between these two hasn’t. But no matter what I want, small changes are happening- a week ago the Bean decided that she wasn’t sleeping in Scorch’s room anymore. Girlfriend had been sleeping on his floor for 2 years every single night without fail. And then- BOOM- not any more. Which is fine- I mean, who wouldn’t rather sleep in a bed? But it still makes me sad.

Then this morning I found them both curled up on the Bean’s bed with their books and a cat a piece. I have to have faith that as they get older, they’ll figure out their relationship. It won’t always be as simple as it is now, but I have faith in them. So here’s to siblings that only have each other. Here’s to siblings that are soon going to have start figuring out stupid boy /girl stuff with each other and their friends. And here’s to parents praying they navigate the tween/teen years with enough finesse to keep their kid’s friendship growing.

Homework time is never the happiest time in my house, but it’s far from the worst. The kids are usually good and pound the work out quickly so they can move on to the fun stuff. Tonight, Scorch had spelling. He did his homework by singing opera-style each word loudly (oh, so loudly) as he wrote it out. The longer the word, the longer he held that off-key note.  Bean finally retreated to her room and I gave up asking him to shush because there was no point. His terrible singing beat me into submission.

After he was done, he proceeded to yell loudly (always loudly) that he was DONE, YO! As he danced over to his backpack to put his homework away, he kept yelling. Who the hell knows what he was saying- I was deaf in one ear by that point. Loud yelling in joy, anger, happiness, sadness has been a theme with Scorch lately and it’s madding.

When the homework was put away securely, I called him over to me and told him that he had to knock it off. We’re taking a short road trip soon and there is nothing the Hubs hates more than yelling from the kids while he’s driving. Seriously, he loathes it. So I told Scorch that if he yells like this in the car, “Daddy is going to pull over and leave you on the side of the road.”

Without missing a beat, Scorch replied: “Mom, come on. We all know Dad’s a police man. He’d not a law breaker, he’s a law abider.”

And that, my friends, is the split personality of a 9 year old boy.

9 year olds can gag and giggle through an explanation of menstruation, but can turn around 10 minutes later and have a serious, intelligent conversation about politics. They can shovel food in their mouths like feral dogs but show perfect manners when running into the parish priest at the grocery store. 9 year olds can devour huge books with ease but still pee their pants with laughter over a well told poop pun.

Scorch is awesome and maddening and frustrating and delightful – and I’m really hoping things aren’t quite as crazy when he’s 10.*

*hahahahhahaha. His insanity may come from me.

I survived another round of a stomach bug in my house. This makes 3 times in the past 5 weeks and I didn’t even hide from my kids in the garage once. I’m clearly aiming for Mother of the Year.

Or at least I was until yesterday when Scorch yelled at me that I’m the Worst Mom EVVVVVERRRR!

My crimes were plentiful:

1. I Don’t Listen, Part 1: When my son prattled on and on for over 2 hours about how he wants to celebrate his birthday in 2 months complete with Googling and a full list of pros and cons of seeing a PG-13 movie that not everyone can go see and a PG movie everyone can, I’m supposed to hang on every word. (spoiler alert: I did not)
2. I Don’t Listen, Part 2: When Scorch is told no to something (say, his request to start a new board game he doesn’t know how to play literally 5 minutes before bed), I’m supposed to stand there and listen to him try to convince me otherwise for as long as he feels like arguing. (spoiler alert: I did not)
3. I Hurt Him: When play-dragging my son under his arms to his bed, he went limp on purpose, which caused me to trip over his sudden dead-weight and drop him from a distance of roughly 1 foot onto the ground onto his butt. According to Scorch, I’m the worst person ever because I “threw” him to the ground and hurt him.

Oh the drama, it runs deep and fierce in my son.

~*~*~*

Yesterday, I kept the Bean home from school to make sure she was entirely recovered from her stomach bug. She was at the weird spot where she felt 85% healthy, but wasn’t completely recovered yet. Basically this meant she was into everything because she was bored of laying around.  So she got into my book shelf and found the copy of The Care and Keeping of You that I bought earlier this year. The Care and Keeping Of You is a great book that outlines all the changes a girl will go through during puberty and discusses things like changes to her body, menstruation, dietary needs, personal hygiene, etc. It’s a great, great book (as is the boys version), but I wasn’t ready to show it to her just yet- I had it on hand for someday. I guess “someday” meant March 1.

The first page Beaner turned to was the one discussing the pros and cons of pads vs tampons. Because of course it was.

So that is why my daughter now knows all about what a period is and that some ladies stick things up their vaginas to soak up the blood. You’re welcome, fellow moms in her class!

In order to go the gym first thing in the morning, I need at least 6 hours of sleep- preferably 7- to be a functioning, polite human being. It doesn’t seem like it would be hard to achieve, right? Last night I went to bed at 10 and set the alarm for 4:55 am. Ahhhh…6 hours and 55 minutes of glorious sleep. Heaven. I happily crawled into bed, spread out and was asleep within minutes.

Until 1:11 am.

Mom- I have a cold and I can’t fall back asleep. Can you come lay with me?

Poor Scorch- he has a nasty cold, so I dosed him up with meds and curled up in a ball at the foot of his bed using my robe as my blanket until he finally, finally fell asleep after waking me up at least 3 times to tell me he was still awake. Let me tell you how much I appreciated that. I finally was able to go to back to my bed at 2:15.

Alright, this isn’t too bad. I got 3 hours of sleep and now I can get 2 hours and 40 more minutes before the alarm is set to go off. Not 6 hours, but close enough that I can fake it for the day. Boom- I’m out again.

Until 3:01.

Mommy- I had a bad dream. Can you come sleep with me?

*sigh* Of course, Beaner is sleeping on Scorch’s floor, so I grab my trusty robe/blanket and head back into their shared room. I find a stray stuffed lion on the ground to use as my pillow and play dead, hoping like hell Bean will go back to sleep.

No dice- she wants the cat. So I get Maddie cat because, damn it, if I’m going to kept awake, so is my poor geriatric 14 year old cat. The three of us settle back on the floor while I pray we don’t wake Scorch back up. I spend the next 20 minutes trying to play dead, get the cat to stop licking my hair and willing the Bean to fall back asleep.  At 3:40, I’m back in my room.

I’m now down to 5 hours of sleep total for the night if no one bothers me until 4:55. I can do this. I’m determined to keep up my good work out routine.

Until 4:13.

Mom- I had the same dream again, you need to come back and sleep with me.

The good news is I was so tired when I went back to bed the last time that I just left my robe on, so I don’t even need to grab it. I do get my pillow though because a stuffed lion does not a comfy pillow make. Maddie cat evidently loves my pillow because she decides to sleep on it with me. Which makes the Bean cry because she wants the cat to sleep with her. Have you ever tried to make a 14 year old cat stay someplace she doesn’t want to in the wee hours of the morning while trying not to wake your sick son AND comforting your crying daughter? Try it, it’s fun.*

Everyone is FINALLY settled down and I get back to bed at 4:54 am. Hell. No. Just no. Screw the gym. I set the alarm for 6:40 and cry when it goes off. But, I dragged myself into the shower to start the day because I’m the freaking-fracking Mom and is that is what we DO. When it’s time to wake the kids for the day and they both whine about how tired they are, I resist the urge to pinch them.

But when the Hubs woke up and told me how well he slept,** I did murder him. He’ll be properly buried when the ground thaws. Say a prayer for his soul.

*This whole time they were awake/trying to fall asleep, I do admit to trying to memorize their perfect little faces. Hormones, PMS, who knows- all I know is that it seems like my kids are growing too big too fast and I know these annoying, horrible, exhausting nights are numbered and I’m going to miss their little selves so damn much.

**I tried to convince both children that they wanted their father to lay with them instead of me but they weren’t having it and I was too damn tired to fight.