Three Days...
It's been three days since Jake and Zachary were dropped off at camp. I miss them, sure, but I do enjoy the quiet mornings. And it is quiet around here until about 11AM, when Ben finally rolls out of bed.
And then it begins.
Mom? What are you doing?
Writing.
Your job is really boring. Do you know how boring it is?
Uh... I like my job.
Don't you wish you had your old job back? (My former boss was at the house last night.)
No. I like my job. Besides, then you'd be in camp because I'd be at an office.
(Friend) is at camp. I bet she's bored.
I simply shrug. I'm pretty certain I know who is bored. It's not his friend and it's not me.
Can I have a Red Bull?
No.
Yesterday, he came home hopped up on AMP- two cans of it on an empty stomach. Not such a good decision, I pointed out when he could not sit still.
Oh, come on, how about a four pack?
I smile, No way.
Can I make bread sticks?
I had gone to the grocery store with Ben the other day and mysteriously came home with quite a bit of junk food- like Pillsbury bread sticks in a can.
Sure.
Two seconds later, he's back in my office.
Can you help me twist them?
Sure.
We stand at the kitchen counter, twisting the sticky dough and talking about movies, shopping and what he wanted for dinner. Mostly, the conversation is Ben's requests for R rated movies, expensive Jordan Air sneakers, and the 99 Restaurant.
I didn't say no a lot. I listened and nodded. Well, I did say no to the R rated movies. The shoes I asked about but made no comments to their expense and how pigs would fly before I spent that much on shoes that he will outgrow in 6 months- or less.
Why the 99?
French Onion soup. I love their French Onion soup.
There are other places that serve an even better one...
Lemme guess, you don't like the 99?
Not really.
Always fresh for you, right? No prepackaged food... except these bread sticks.
Um... you talked me into the bread sticks.
He laughed. And the Cheetos. Can we go get some soda? No, wait, Red Bull. I really want to try Red Bull. Please, Mom?
And so the conversation when on and on. He's only been up two hours today and he's driving me nuts.
I have to remember why I didn't sign him up for camp this week. Why I decided to let him hang out with me all day while Jeanine was at work.
He's twelve, soon to be thirteen. In another year? He won't stay home with me. I recently ran into another mom who's son is fifteen. She sighed and said, everything now is about his girlfriend and his friends. I never see him anymore.
In January, when camp registrations were due, in my heart I knew I had this summer, maybe next, before I wouldn't see him at all. Whether he's dating or he's just hanging out with friends, he's not going to ask me to come and twist dough with him.
He's not going to ask for Red Bull over and over again.
There is news a-poppin' - the House of Reps in Massachusetts is getting cold feet around voting on the repeal of the 1913 law- which is ridiculous. McCain is being a jerk- this time having one of his staff question the sincerity of Obama's speech at a Holocaust Museum.
I don't know about anyone else, but I cannot imagine anyone not being sincere while talking in a Holocaust Museum in Israel.
Student loans are falling through right before the start of a new semester thanks to the subprime crisis, the Fannie Mae/Freddie Mac bailout could cost taxpayers 25 Billion dollars, and while gas prices hover at 4.50 a gallon, we're told this whole economic mess is imaginary.
For the rest of the day today? I'm headed to the back room for a round of Dance Dance Revolution- Ben's favorite video game- and then a trip to the grocery store so we can make our own french onion soup with all those crazy fresh ingredients I insist on.
I can't change the world in a day.
But I can make soup with my son.
And then it begins.
Mom? What are you doing?
Writing.
Your job is really boring. Do you know how boring it is?
Uh... I like my job.
Don't you wish you had your old job back? (My former boss was at the house last night.)
No. I like my job. Besides, then you'd be in camp because I'd be at an office.
(Friend) is at camp. I bet she's bored.
I simply shrug. I'm pretty certain I know who is bored. It's not his friend and it's not me.
Can I have a Red Bull?
No.
Yesterday, he came home hopped up on AMP- two cans of it on an empty stomach. Not such a good decision, I pointed out when he could not sit still.
Oh, come on, how about a four pack?
I smile, No way.
Can I make bread sticks?
I had gone to the grocery store with Ben the other day and mysteriously came home with quite a bit of junk food- like Pillsbury bread sticks in a can.
Sure.
Two seconds later, he's back in my office.
Can you help me twist them?
Sure.
We stand at the kitchen counter, twisting the sticky dough and talking about movies, shopping and what he wanted for dinner. Mostly, the conversation is Ben's requests for R rated movies, expensive Jordan Air sneakers, and the 99 Restaurant.
I didn't say no a lot. I listened and nodded. Well, I did say no to the R rated movies. The shoes I asked about but made no comments to their expense and how pigs would fly before I spent that much on shoes that he will outgrow in 6 months- or less.
Why the 99?
French Onion soup. I love their French Onion soup.
There are other places that serve an even better one...
Lemme guess, you don't like the 99?
Not really.
Always fresh for you, right? No prepackaged food... except these bread sticks.
Um... you talked me into the bread sticks.
He laughed. And the Cheetos. Can we go get some soda? No, wait, Red Bull. I really want to try Red Bull. Please, Mom?
And so the conversation when on and on. He's only been up two hours today and he's driving me nuts.
I have to remember why I didn't sign him up for camp this week. Why I decided to let him hang out with me all day while Jeanine was at work.
He's twelve, soon to be thirteen. In another year? He won't stay home with me. I recently ran into another mom who's son is fifteen. She sighed and said, everything now is about his girlfriend and his friends. I never see him anymore.
In January, when camp registrations were due, in my heart I knew I had this summer, maybe next, before I wouldn't see him at all. Whether he's dating or he's just hanging out with friends, he's not going to ask me to come and twist dough with him.
He's not going to ask for Red Bull over and over again.
There is news a-poppin' - the House of Reps in Massachusetts is getting cold feet around voting on the repeal of the 1913 law- which is ridiculous. McCain is being a jerk- this time having one of his staff question the sincerity of Obama's speech at a Holocaust Museum.
I don't know about anyone else, but I cannot imagine anyone not being sincere while talking in a Holocaust Museum in Israel.
Student loans are falling through right before the start of a new semester thanks to the subprime crisis, the Fannie Mae/Freddie Mac bailout could cost taxpayers 25 Billion dollars, and while gas prices hover at 4.50 a gallon, we're told this whole economic mess is imaginary.
For the rest of the day today? I'm headed to the back room for a round of Dance Dance Revolution- Ben's favorite video game- and then a trip to the grocery store so we can make our own french onion soup with all those crazy fresh ingredients I insist on.
I can't change the world in a day.
But I can make soup with my son.
Labels: kids, lesbian mom, LGBT families, summer vacation
posted by Sara at 12:39 PM
7 Comments:
I love french onion soup. Your son has a refined palate at such a young age!
When should I be over for my soup?
Id kill to have the kids little again........minus the red bull
just sayin...
And that pretty much sums it all up. Lovely post.
i will have to store the fact that ben loves french onion soup somewhere in my memory, and make it for him sometime he is here. i LOVE it too.
yeah, the red bull obsession I'm sure is to get a rise out of me.
the soup was very good- used a short cut recipe in Cooks Illustrated- so there was no boiling down of meat bones required.
ben sliced onions till his eyes watered- which was about thirty seconds. he stuck to grating cheese and stirring while I did the onion crying.
I do believe you've got a kid who loves you.
that's really beautiful.
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