Today I had some rare alone time with Bird. We hung out and chatted while we ran some errands. Then he whooped me handily at Just Dance. He is the Pump Up the Jam king at our house. I worked up a sweat while he giggled at my immense lack of coordination. Nothing about me looks like a dancing queen when I play Just Dance. I look more like a life size spasm. Bird and I took advantage of our alone time to play some cards that Deal isn’t quite old enough to grasp and enjoy. We played some Sorry and tried to build a house of cards.
It was a modern day Norman Rockwell moment. Bird snuggled in a fleece blanket adorned with soccer balls and footballs. I was sitting on the floor beside him cozied up in my hooded knit cape, mug of black coffee at my side. Lark was curled up in a swath of sunshine strategically stretched between us so we could each absent mindedly give him a pat. I was looking at my boy, my first born, wondering what happened to the pudgy baby and cheeky toddler he was. I imagined him as a teenager and as an adult. I thought about what he will be like as as grown man, as a Bird who has spread his wings. All this time travel daydreaming happened in a whisper of a moment, just enough time for Bird to lay his cards in a game of Sevens.
He jolted me back with a jarring question.
“What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, Mommy?” Whoa. Here was a chance at a real teachable moment. My road had forked, and I was f*@#ed. I didn’t lie but I definitely didn’t open up that Pandora’s box all the way. I wanted to tell him something tame yet bad enough to demonstrate my remorse. I really didn’t know what to do and found myself looking up to get some moral support from Mac Daddy. Alas, he was out hiking with Deal. Their conversation likely centered on LEGO creations and Greek mythology. I was stuck with the deep, inquisitive kid who wanted to know more and more about me and my life as a kid. Here was my shot at making a connection and really saying something meaningful. Here was my time to step up and be a mother to teach my son life lessons he would take with him to the next generation. Instead, I flaked. I told him about the time I got busted shoplifting in eighth grade. Even then, I didn’t divulge full details.
What would you have done?