Don't just walk past the mess.....

Apparently, just because I see the mess in the middle of the floor, doesn’t mean that anyone else that lives in this house does.  I’ve actually seen my kids step over things, stop, look down, think about picking them up, and then continue on their way….  It’s funny sometimes and wildly annoying the next.    I have two adorable little boys.  They are 15 months apart and the best of friends.  I see myself in them every day.  It scares me a little….every day.

Matthew, my youngest, is five.  He has the kind of face that draws people to touch it, or squeeze it if you will, when they are having a conversation with him.   I’ve had more than one teacher tell me they talk to him with their hands in their pockets.  The dimples and the cheeks are just too much sometimes.  I don’t recall ever hearing stories like that about me, but I hear on the regular that he and I look exactly alike.  Obviously, I love that.  The part where the fear steps in is that we act exactly alike.  He’s extremely competitive.  I’ve been known to turn an animal seek and find into a competition.  He’s impulsive.  When I was 12 I pierced holes 2, 3 and 4 in my ears with a safety-pin during French class.  He’s manipulative, already.  I once convinced a friend to take the rap for bringing alcohol to school.  We were in the seventh grade.  He’s right.  Always.  I’m right, most of the time….  unless I’m talking to him.  You get the picture.

My seven-year old, Nicholas, looks exactly like my older brother.  Precious, sweet, soft…  He is an old soul, and that, on occasion, makes him a bit uncomfortable in his own skin.  I can totally relate to that discomfort.  He’s insecure.  I remember feeling fat because I weighed 96 pounds when I left the 8th grade.  He’s a perfectionist.  I paid someone to hand cut the marble in our master bath because the size I wanted wasn’t stock.  He is so smart.  My best friend in 11th grade was my history teacher.  He is the kid that other parents want their kids to be around.  Melts my heart….

The two of them are as different as any two brothers could be.  Perfect example….  This past Easter we were having brunch with friends and family.  Nicholas was pulling out chairs for his friends, talking with the “grown-ups”, carrying plates for people, and planning his strategy for the Easter egg hunt.  Matthew was handing out pennies and chocolates to the girls.  It’s remarkable to me, as their mother, to see the differences.  It’s debilitating some days to think that it’s my job, as their mother, to teach them how to be the best people they can be.  I want them to learn to fail, succeed, change, and grow with humility.  I want them to love and respect themselves in a way that I didn’t.  I desperately want to protect them and set them free at the same time.

Living in recovery, I’ve learned a lot about myself.  I’m learning in my own life how important it is to face the pains of life, feel the feelings, let go of the things I can’t control, and have faith that I am in the care of something greater than myself.  With those two babies sleeping down the hall, it’s imperative that I remember how important it is teach them those same lessons.  Boys….  please don’t just walk past the mess.  Take a minute to clean it up now.  Life is totally worth it……