You look like I need another drink

I remember the first time I looked into his steel blue eyes, that crazy blonde hair and those perfectly sculpted cheeks. That was it, that first glance and there was nothing I could do about it. He knew it to, that very first second; he knew I would forever be his.  We could lay next to each other for hours, just taking in each others expressions. I wanted to take in his every breath and memorize his every expression.  I fell deeply, madly in love the first time I laid my eyes upon him.  I knew my time with him would be too short, I knew it would seem like an instant and I'd be left to wonder how it happened so quickly and so I had to cherish it all. There would be many wonderful days, there would be some hard days, but most of all, enjoyment and pure fulfillment. The first time I brought him home to meet my family, they quickly fell for him as I had. He was intoxicating and beautiful and perfect. He was always a charmer, always engaging, even then.
His older brother loved him also, they would spend hours together, laughing, fighting and sharing. He was the second born of three boys.  Three boys who were obviously adored by their mother, three boys who would cause havoc, raise holy hell and charm the pants off a nun. They were very different from each other in many ways, yet exactly the same in many more ways. Three boys, My three boys.  Watching them grow together was the single most fascinating thing I have ever experienced in life.  My three boys, the musketeers, all aptly named after cowboy outlaws.  They were experienced tricksters and wicked spoiled.  I remember days of kool-aid stands, countless football games, school plays, lego's and matchbox cars strewn about strategically placed to trip up even the most skilled of mothers and fathers.

I remember the fighting between brothers, and the alliance of brothers against adversaries. I remember coming home from work one day and discovering that the big purple dinosaur; Barney had been replaced by bodies draped over chairs with cords attached from the television to the video game controllers their hands held.   I wondered how everything had changed so quickly. I remember bike rides and homework and days floating on the river. I remember longing for the days when Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles rocked and girls had cooties.  I remember the horrid, tumultuous teenage years, the rules broken, the laws broken; in some cases, and the girlfriends that were suddenly awesome. I remember triumphs of overcoming issues and obstacles. I remember it all like it was yesterday. It was yesterday.

Today I am praying that the child who was so very small in my arms one day, who means the world to me, who taught me so much, is really ready for the decisions he faces and actions he will be facing.  Today, my middle son, who has grown, in the blink of an eye, is in the process of being sworn into the United States military. Today, as I look into those steel blue eyes, I say, Son, I am proud and humbled at what you have become and today, just today, you look like I need another drink.

My obsession with Vodka and the likes....

So I woke up this morning and on my rush to the bathroom, tripped over a transformer action figure and skidded into the loo with the help of a matchbox car. It's apparent my two year old Grandson has moved in with me, along with his entertainment committee, which we will call his parents. I have a houseful of colorful people. Let me elaborate, I have 3 children, of the boy kind. Two are grown with children of their own and one is still in his torturous teenage years. My oldest son and his family have recently relocated to my spare bedroom. My elderly parents also reside with me. I know your thinking, wow it must be a big house....well not big enough! I am going to be taking on life through the bottom of a vodka bottle, or possibly any kind of alcohol I can get my grubby little hands on in bulk. Said teenage son, whom we will call "Ace", simply because he is an incredible student/child. We are so proud, but question his relation to us, he has turned 16 and would like a car. He has several in mind, but lacks funding to match his taste, so that we will be "working" on. Anyway, the eldest, whom we will refer to as "Gadget" because he is always fucking with shit, has become ill and needed a place to reside while recovering/unable to obtain gainful employment. However, this blog is not going to cover any of the above today, no today is about Middle boy, who we could refer to as "Stu" simply because he is, well, stubborn. Just like his mother. Again off topic. "Stu" has decided to enlist in the military. Now, like many of you might be, I am proud of this decision to join millions of Americans serving this great country of ours, I think it's very respectful and honorable. But I'm the mom, SOOOO I kinda hate it too. Only because we are in the middle of a war that may never end. "Stu" is only 19 and the only combat he has had involved a nerf gun. I mean sure he hunted a bit growing up, so he is familiar with guns, but not so much as a weapon of war. I guess he'll undoubtedly learn many things I'm anxious for him to learn and he will have a complete understanding of teamwork and responsibility and many other important factors, and he will have some job security in an ever increasingly poor market. But I find myself kind of wishing he wanted to be a Rockstar. They have treatment for that. It's just the mom in me screaming the words to "Simple Man" by Lynryd Skynryd. “Stu” will be transported via U.S. Military to this swearing in ceremony, which I was told I couldn’t go. I’m not sure if this is a Military rule or a “Stu” rule. Either they don’t let mommy go because they don’t want them begging them not to sign on the dotted line, or “Stu” is afraid I may beg them to come to my house and take them all away. Either way, I feel very out of the loop or ill-informed at best. We spend so many years teaching our children what we think is important and then one day they just up and do it. Sneaky little shits, I didn’t think they were listening.