This past weekend was a Mom-Boys weekend. Dad was away for a golf trip so it was a full weekend together.
When these Mom-Boys weekend happen (usually 2-3 times a year), I usually go in with somewhat “pessimistic” expectations. They’re going to be wild. They’ll skip their naps. They’ll spend the whole weekend beating each other up – and crying – and beating each other up – and crying. And then Sunday night rolls around and the weekend has exceeded my expectations. I realize I was prepared for the worst but got better than I planned: They were pretty well behaved. They played nice with each other. There’s at least one great nap day. We do some extra fun things because it’s just the three of us.
This weekend did not turn out as planned. There were tears – by all three of us. Lots of them. There was some mom guilt because I just wanted a break from them. There was yelling and angry words. There were early bedtimes and no naps. And I swear they had cotton in their ears the ENTIRE weekend.
And while it was super frustrating, I have to remember that it’s going to happen. There are going to be hard weekends/days/trips/milestones. It comes with parenting. And some days I just have to grind it out and get it done… even when I want to run out the front door, down the street and far, far away from the chaos.
Because one day, they’ll be out of the house, and I’ll miss those Mom-Boys weekends. I’ll miss the chaos and fighting. I’ll miss them sneaking out of their rooms to play instead of resting. I’ll miss the snuggles during bedtime. Mostly, I’ll just miss them.