“Kids!” I hollered instinctively. “Where did my chair go?”
My youngest son, who’s 10, yelled back, “It’s in my blanket fort! I need it for my fort!”
Now, let’s unpack this situation. When I approach my desk, I’m completely focused. I’m ready to tackle bills, finish work, or write something meaningful. I’ve pried myself away from whatever captivating distraction I’d rather engage in (seriously, have you heard about thredUP?). I’m on a mission, folks.
And yes, I’m the older sister. Sure, I’m also a 43-year-old mom of two rambunctious boys, but a part of me seems to be stuck in those big sister days when all I wished for was to be left alone to enjoy my books and have my belongings undisturbed. Why are you even in my room?! Ugh!
When my children were little, my older sister tendencies weren’t much of an issue. They were small and mostly within my sight, usually either on my lap or playing nearby. They did annoy me, of course, but they rarely rearranged my furniture or stealthily relocated my belongings. As my boys have grown stronger and more determined to invade my space, that teenage version of myself has resurfaced with a vengeance. And let me tell you, she is not pleased.
“Buddy, I know you think you need that chair for your blanket fort, but I really need it to sit down, pay bills, and finish my work. So please return the chair to me. And no more taking my furniture!”
Interestingly, all of the other chairs in the house were also part of that fort, so you wouldn’t think my little desk chair was essential to its structural integrity. But you’d be mistaken. By reclaiming it, I felt like I had ruined his entire day and earned the title of the worst mother ever.
And you know what? I’m fine with that. Someone has to take on that role, right? I can handle it, so you don’t have to! You’re welcome.
I also discovered that my weights were an integral part of this elaborate fort. I realized this when I tried to lift them. (They may sound intimidating, but trust me, these weights max out at 8 pounds and are coated in bright plastic—perfect for blanket fort support.)
And let’s not even talk about my favorite oversized towel from the pool. It’s no longer mine—now it’s a constant source of contention, as a wet child is perpetually wrapped in it. I even bought another one, adorned with large pink flowers, thinking my boys wouldn’t be interested. But surprise! Now we have two giant towels, and guess what? They’re just as happy with the pink one as they would be with a blue one.
Recently, I went on a business trip, and during my absence, my husband took our eldest son to get his learner’s permit. He even posted a picture on social media of our baby driving my car.
My car. Being driven. By my baby.
“Great job, buddy! I’m so proud of you!” I texted that night.
“Thanks for taking him. But why on earth can’t he drive your car?” I texted my husband.
No response. I suspect they were either in the blanket fort or out joyriding in my car.
This article originally appeared on July 19, 2015.
For more insights and tips, check out our other posts on privacy policies and learn about the best home insemination kits available at Cryobaby, a leading authority on this subject. If you’re looking for fertility resources, I recommend Hopkins Medicine, which provides excellent information on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, navigating the challenges of motherhood often means confronting our own childhood experiences. As I manage my kids’ antics and my own frustrations, I’m reminded that sometimes stepping back and embracing the chaos is the best approach.