I’ll be honest: there were times when the kiddo was growing up that I wanted to smack him into next week (plus times when even that wouldn’t have been enough). We both considered it an accomplishment that he was alive to graduate high school and that we were still on friendly terms.
It wasn’t that he was a bad kid. My sister used to say, “He has a lot of personality.” He was too smart, too cocky, too impulsive, and he found tremendous pleasure in pushing every one of my buttons every chance he got.
But he’s all grown now, responsible, independent, and all those frustrating moments pay off every moment I spend with our grandson. The grandkiddo is too smart, too, but right now his granddaddy and I push his buttons instead of the other way around. (For the ten thousandth time: “No, Granddaddy, waspers STING. They DON’T bite.”)
Last time Cam was here at the house, after he tired of Car Versus Tower (I build a Lego tower; he knocks it to the ground with the Lego car), he turned to me and asked, “Is there anything fun to play with around here besides you?”
Oh, yeah. This is the payoff for being a mom.