I Love My Kids; It’s the Parenting that Sucks
My son can’t get a hold of himself when he’s hungry. He’s long and lean and clearly in the middle of a growth spurt. He’s gangly and lopsided and when he smiles it’s like the sun focused all it’s warmth on just your face and it’s about to penetrate your soul.
When my son smiles with his whole face, I melt. So does Robert.
But as Alexander is growing, and stretching in physical and emotional ways he flops himself into my car at the end of the day. “How was school?” I ask my daughter, “nice,” she smiles and has more details for me. Alexander comes crashing into the backseat craving food and attention and an outlet and a voice. Shrilly he asks, “Where’s my snack?”