Rocky roads

There comes a time in every parent's life when complete adoration turns into...well, the opposite; you figure it out.  And I am not talking about how the parent feels for their child (because it's always love), but how the child feels about his parent. I can say this with experience now, I'm sad to say.  You see, I'm usually the "nice" parent; the one that provides lots of hugs and kisses, Band Aids and sympathy.  Pete and I are a perfect balance; he being the ultimate authority (once a Marine, always a Marine);  and me...well, I'm the ~cough, cough~ pushover...OUCH!  The truth hurts sometimes.

But for the past six weeks (seems like six months), Pete has been away on business more than he has been at home, and that's been hard on all of us.  I sure do feel for single parents.  In fact, I don't know how they do it.  I'm worn out from driving the kids between two different schools, dance, TaeKwonDo, CCD, music lessons and scouts.  And frankly, since the kids know I am in charge, they have been trying their best to convince me they don't have to go. 

CCD is the worse.  The boys hate it, think it's BOR-ING!  Katie, on the other hand, gets all primped up and excited now that she's in the JrHi CYO (plus she LOVES dance).  But the boys wake up every Wednesday morning (Sundays, too) hacking and coughing, complaining of stomach-aches.  Come on!   I'm not THAT easy; I see right through their little charade, and they hate it.  I can look into their eyes and see those wheels a-spinnin', those words of hate floating around when I firmly say NO over and over again.   Although those words have not made it to their lips (thank you, Jesus), I know one day I'll hear them; and I'll be crushed.

Last night Andrew was throwing a fit, saying how bad he felt and coughing up a storm, but I didn't believe him.  I was the "mean momma" and made him go (to CCD).  Well, when I picked him up, it was obvious he had fever; his cheeks were red and burning hot.  He stormed straight into the house and to his bed, all the while berating me for making him go.  How can kids who play wolf expect parents to know when they're really sick?  Well, after last night, I think the lesson's learned...the hard way.

Hurry home, Pete!