I wrote this when we lived in Alexandria, but a recent event reminded me of it. Feel free to insert Lance or Kyle's name in place of Trent's, but Trent continues to know his way around the ladies best! If you have read this before, apologies!
My son is getting married! Trent and his girlfriend are in the kitchen right now planning the Big Event. Bella and Trent are exploring food options, the most pressing item of the moment is whether or not to have the wedding cake be chocolate. I feel for my son, he loves chocolate but will probably lose out to the more traditional vanilla. Bella has dreamed of this day her entire life, so vanilla it is. She wins that argument and moves on to how tall and elaborate the cake will be. “Maybe a fountain! Maybe fresh flowers! How about the bride and groom figurines, do you like the Lladro ones or the Precious Moments?” Trent doesn’t care what the cake looks like, he just wants chocolate.
I am listening to this conversation and trying not to interfere, but I am not happy about this arrangement. I know the future my son faces. I am a woman and I know the passionate, yet pointless, arguments my husband and I have. We fight over many little things, but they are big at the time. My husband knows if he wins an argument, he still will lose the war. Pouting, sulking, silent treatments, I do them all. They must be in the X chromosome. My poor Trent! What a sad future!
Then my mind races, "Oh my God! Forget his future, what about mine? My little baby loves someone else! I am no longer the number one woman in his life! I don’t want him to marry her! He’s not ready! Run, Trent, run!"
No, I am not being unreasonable. It seems like only yesterday we were snuggling on the couch and I was tucking him in bed. Wait! It was yesterday! You see, my little boy is only four. Bella and Trent are making the cake out of plastic food at the plastic kitchen. Later they will get out the dress up clothes. Bella will wear as much pink tulle as she weighs and Trent will find his Thing costume. What a sight! A real-life Beauty and the Beast.
Last year, when Trent was three, he met Bella. It wasn’t love at first sight, but they really seemed to have hit it off. They would play together at preschool, have periodic play dates, and then she started talking about their wedding. Her mother and I would laugh at the outrageousness of it all, Bella trying to get Trent to pretend to be the handsome prince while she went whole-hog with tiaras and sequins. It was all very innocent and cute.
Now, however, times have changed. The girls in is new class seem to have learned about Trent’s charming ways and irresistible good looks (he gets those from his dad’s side). The girls are clamoring! He comes home with love notes in his backpack and stories of playground kissing contests. The girls fight about who he loves most and who is going to marry him. It’s getting to be too much for me, he’s just a baby! I just want to scream, “HE’S MINE AND HE LOVES ME THE MOST!”
I get it, I really do. I used to be a little girl dreaming of my wedding day. Barbie, with her engagement ring poked through her hand, and Ken, with his muscular body and to-die-for blonde hair, would get married and drive off in that pink convertible every day at my house. I used to get dressed up in my mom’s old dresses and pretend I was a rock star, a princess or a bride. Yep, I know all about naming your babies at slumber parties and learning to kiss on my pillow. I remember. I did it all. Now that I’m a mom though, my perspective has changed. Lay off the boy!
I should be used to this by now. I have three boys and Trent is the middle one. My first son Kyle also has a lot of his father’s traits and is equally admired by girls. He has come home with similar stories of girls chasing him and stolen kisses. The phone hasn’t rung too much, but I’m afraid that’s next. Girls seem to love my boys. The difference between Kyle and Trent is that Kyle still thinks girls have the cooties and Trent just loves the attention. I worry about our last boy, Lance. I could have a real problem on my hands!
Don’t get me wrong, I have always wanted to be a good mother in-law. I have been blessed with a wonderful mother in-law (and I’m not just saying that because she might read this), but I have heard horror stories! My friend’s mother in-law went through her underwear drawer and pulled her husband aside to tell him that she should “wear cotton crotches because they are more hygienic”. I tell myself that won’t be me. Of course I will welcome any woman my boys bring home with open arms. There won’t be any of this silly jealousy or motherly interference when I become a mother in-law, I am SO above being petty. I will be cool, I won’t go through your underwear drawer.
Ladies, please give me some time. I need to be with my boys for a while before they take that giant leap beyond only having love for their mother. I promise to teach my boys how to treat you like a lady, be romantic and be a good father. He will learn how to wash dishes, do laundry, and cook gourmet meals. His father and I will give him the foundations for a fantastic family. I only ask for some time.
I promise to let go once all skills are mastered and he is grown up enough to be your Prince Charming. I’ll be ready. Come back and clamor in twenty years…or maybe thirty. Until then, I am keeping the backpack off-limits to notes and taking the phone off the hook!
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