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My children are perfect, and always will be.

My children are perfect.

Right now, one is stomping up the stairs in a fit of temper. I asked him to go to his room to cool off, but mid-way, he has decided not to give me that satisfaction.

“You want me to go to my room?” He huffs. “Then I think I’ll stay right here!”

So now he’s back, fuming. His big, green eyes bright with insult.

“So, stay right here.” I say agreeably, refusing to be drawn into his tantrum.

“Oh, you want me to stay here? Then I’m going to my room!” He yells and stomps back up the stairs.

I keep my smile on the inside, but little bits of it come out in the upturn of my mouth.

The minute he is gone from the room, my little one, five now, not really so little, jumps in front of me, pulling on my arm, dancing around me annoyingly. “Mama! I want you to play legos with me. Now! Can we play now?”

He’s biting the neckline of his shirt, exactly like I’ve asked him not to do a thousand times. I don’t want to play legos, but his little face is insistent. He is desperate to play, clenching the shirt tightly between his teeth, squinting his eyes real hard, hoping his wish will be answered, that I will not say, “wait” for the third time, that I will just play, which I do, but not without a heavy sigh. Did I mention I really don’t want to play?

My oldest son bounds in like a puppy. “Mommy? Can you get me a snack?” I should tell him to get it himself.

He’s eleven, but I’m all too happy to be released from lego prison. Besides, he may be my oldest but he’s my least responsible; more likely than my five year-old to spill his cup of water or rip open a bag of pretzels to drop right to the floor like pick-up sticks. Right now, I’m trying not to notice that his tee shirt is both inside out and backwards.

I come back to find him happily engaged with my youngest. They are soaring their creations around each other, complete with battle sound effects. I place the pretzels and drink down, and hear my middle son storming down the stairs. He pauses when we make eye contact, just long enough to growl at me.

These three boys, so different, physically, emotionally, developmentally; each with their strengths and weakness, yet, there are moments I am blown away by their absolute perfection; their eyes full of hope, their growing psyches, their innocence and their honesty, their flawless youth.

They are not tainted by the world, have not suffered crushing rejections and disappointment. They have not been stripped of their pride, had to learn real life lessons, had their dreams shattered around them. Their lives are open, their paths, a journey and an adventure. They are beautiful in their possibility and their promise.

They are as children should be. Perfect. Untainted. And I try not to get emotional, when I realize the inevitable; that they will grow, and become people. People with baggage. It breaks my heart a little, but then I remember, they will always be perfect, because they will always be my babies.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.  Poo. Poo. Poo.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
Poo. Poo. Poo.

About Ice Scream Mama

Mama to 3 boys, wife to Mr. Baseball and daughter of a sad man. I have a double scoop every day.

48 responses »

  1. This is a perfect piece!! Lol! I love the moments when I look at my “babies” and see their perfection. Then there are the other moments!!! Lol! Thank you for a great read and a beautiful post!

  2. Only a mother can see the perfection of a kid in the middle of a tantrum. Right now my 2 perfect ones are fighting over a pillow LOL

  3. So glad someone else’s boys growl at them. Thank you for sharing.

  4. Only a mother could think such thoughts. Only a mother.

  5. This couldn’t have come at a better time as I have recently felt like I’m going off the deep end! Thanks for the reminder that they really are perfect!

  6. ack, speaking of perfect… this post is just that. *adore*

  7. three boys! wow! with certainty each has different personality and I admire a mother octopus that needs to maintain good humor and rationality. Children test us all the time and also need attention and affection. Each child manifests differently. I’m just a 12 year old girl, she has a strong personality, while it is very affectionate. Since she is an only child, she requires more attention because she has no one to play with or fight (lol) indoors. And this is a problem! If it does not find a friend in the neighborhood to play, ahhhhh she wont be upset.


  8. Come on mom- Legos are not a prison. They are awesome.

  9. Beautiful! I haven’t thought about my kids growing up to be people with baggage. Ugh. Good thing I’ll be senile by then. I could feel your fierce love for your boys as you described your interactions with them. Beautiful writing!

  10. They are perfect. I love em!

  11. Legos are my nemesis. Truth. I love me some Pick-Up Sticks though.

  12. Thomas the train is my nemesis, oh and Angry Birds, and dolls…I’m not much of a “play” person – I prefer books…but yes, our kids are perfect – they all are – in their own ways 🙂

  13. I love this piece, and I love, love, love that picture!

  14. I love my kids, but they are not perfect. Is there such a thing as a perfect teenager?

  15. Oh how I needed to read this today. My son is like your middle with the temper – the I’ll do the opposite of what you want just to make you mad. He went to school on a sour note. Thanks for reminding me that he’s still my perfect baby.

  16. Love those moments .. and that’s a riot about the stomping up and down the stairs. Sounds like something my son would do and I would have had the same reaction – how can I not laugh at loud at him?

  17. Oh, how sweet and perfect this piece is, Mama. I love it. Truth. And my heart is fluttering, my throat is lumpy. I’m thinking of my two boys and the inevitable and these are the things that make moms’ hearts burst.

  18. The saying in our house: “We are all exactly what are supposed to be. Therefore we are perfect.”

  19. Oh my. So much feelings after reading this – do they have to grow up?? Do WE have to grow up?
    Also, I laughed at the “lego prison” comment. I’ve felt that way, too. I mean, when I was nannying. Still no kids yet for me.

  20. Mine is only 19 months old and I can’t stand her getting so BIG! And yet I love watching her grow. Now I get why I am my parents’ baby even at 34:)

  21. Funny but I kinda like being in the lego prison. To me, that’s perfect. Because my youngest is 9 and I won’t get to do it much longer! Love the emotions in this post!

  22. As I watch my daughter sit in the middle of the dance floor at her toddler dance class while the other little ballerinas follow directions, I think of how she marches to her own beat. She may be a little naughty, but she is perfect to me. I love this post. I found you because you are a Blogger Idol judge. I am staying because your writing is amazing. Thank you so much for writing this piece! I look forward to reading more.


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