Dearest friends and family:
Here we are again at the end of another year. I must admit as I have reached what has been deemed mid-life, I am both terrified and excited by the thought of time passing. I haven’t been able to invent something that acts as a break on the movement of time, so I will just have to roll with it. I am not looking forward to the fact that my Johnny will be headed to college in just 3.5 years from now and the other boys shortly thereafter. Secretly however, I am looking forward to it in some ways. I am looking forward to a cleaner home, a significant drop in my grocery bill, exotic travel, extra income, and naps. I really like naps. But for now Donald and I will continue on with the world’s most challenging unpaid job. We will work to raise boys who are smart and observant, sensitive and kind, whom listens well and are remarkably honest and articulate about the way they feel. I mean let’s be honest, woman of the future are counting on us to bring up happy, kind, and well-rounded husbands-to-be.
While we have been working on pursuing this goal of raising these well rounded young fellows we are constantly reminded by all three of them that we are “the worst parents ever.” So I will attempt to share with you some of the reasons why we have been given this prestigious title from all three Alexander Boys.
“I hate this house” – The three of you live with both parents in a lovely home on the prestigious North Shore of Long Island. You live within walking distance of the water where there are yachts that cost more than all of the homes on the block we live on. You live 30 miles from the greatest city in the world and twenty minutes from the ocean. I am so sorry we will definitely consider moving.
“There is nothing to ever eat in this house”- Are you talking about the house that constantly has a snack selection that rivals the average Target store? There is nothing here to drink? You want me to get you your ergonomic thermos to fill with cold filtered water from the fridge? Sorry, but I’m too busy right now, lost in fond memories. Memories of the lukewarm tap water, served in cups my Nanny and Poppy got for free at the local gas station. What’s that Christian? Your organic, $99.99 a bag chicken nuggets are to bumpy and is to squishy? I am sorry, again lost in the memory of my Mother’s pan fried ham steak or the TV dinner of Salisbury Steak with warm chocolate pudding served in a plastic tray with plastic wrap stuck on my steak.
“This house is too cold/hot” – I am so sorry that we have a no heat until November rule and no AC until June rule. You can pout and complain all you want. I spent many a night inhaling the fumes of Virginia Slim cigarettes in my parent’s bedroom where we all had to sleep on the floor in the summer because that was the only room that had air conditioning. I feel so bad for you and your central air conditioned bedroom where you get to sleep in your own bed and not have to share a sleeping bag with your younger sibling.
“There is nothing fun here to do”- I feel horrible that you are mad because I won’t take you to the bouncy castle place, Disney World, and the US Virgin Islands on a weekly basis. When I was your age, my siblings and I spent our weekends roaming around our Grandparents upstate home in the woods by an old camp site. As long as none of us caught rabies from a woodland creature, lost too much blood or more than one finger, it was considered a darn good time. I’m reasonably certain you can entertain yourselves with minimal bloodshed/infectious disease somewhere in the vicinity of this home for free!
What do you mean there’s nothing on the 444,000 channels playing on the two 60 plus inch flat screen TVs you are currently reclined in front of while I wash yet another load of dishes/laundry/household filth you accumulated? We didn’t even have a remote for the TV growing up – I WAS THE REMOTE! I too would have hated to grow up in a toy-filled, high-tech, sports-equipment-strewn, climate-controlled, love-saturated home and you’re proclaiming you’re bored! I must say your lives are quite the hardship.
So for now my swollen vocal cords have produced a voice of a two pack a day smoker and the end result is the screaming really doesn’t work and we are kinda enjoying the title of worst parents ever. We now find ourselves in awe of our boy’s energy, curiosity, innocence and wonder every single day of our lives. Our thoughts many years ago of what parenthood would have been like may not match what we are living today but what we have done has surpassed our wildest dreams. Today’s vision looks like this:
It is John’s performance on stage at the school play or the kindness he emulates to every person he meets. Its Danny Boy’s achievements on the baseball field that leave us grinning after each game or the giggles he produces from his baby cousins when he plays with them. Its Chrissy Mac’s incredible Lego creations that give us a sneak peek into the mind of one of the most creative and one-of-a-kind humans I have ever met. It’s the good night kiss Christian sneaks in to his Mom and Dad each night before bed. These are the moments and Donald and I have three amazing boys to thank for that.