My hands are covered in flour and and grease, so I give him a quick wave. "Hey bud, how was your day?" I call out.
My son, his curls all sticking this way and that, red t-shirt hanging out of his jeans slides next to me in front of the sink. Like instinct, he reaches out and turns the hot water tap on for me.
"It was a day mum, whatcha makin?"
My son towers over me. With a broad chest and scruffy chin, it is hard for me to imagine he was once the tiny bundle in my arms.
"Biscuits." I answer him. He grins and makes a chuck-chuck noise, signalling his approval.
"How was school?"
"Alright. Got 98 on my test...."
"...as usual" I finished for him. We grin at eachother.
"Anything for me to do?" He asks.
"Not really, you can take the garbage out later." Is my reply.
"K-bye-love-you" he says as he leaves the kitchen.
"Love you" I yell out to a slamming door.
I look up. I realize these times are not going to last forever. From the toddler, jutting his chin out at me in defiance. To this amazingly funny, talented, brilliantly gifted man. I have watched in one fashion or another, the making of a human life.
I have four that I brought into the world. Through struggles, bad choices, laughter, tears, boo-boos, heart breaks and so much more, I have played a major role in the formation of life. And yet it is so much bigger then me.
I have no control over who will hurt my boy, what situations he will find himself in or even how his adulthood will unfold. I can't protect him from the cruelty of others or even his own poor judgement.
All I can do is spend those moments with him shaping his view on the world, letting him know he is loved without question.
I am the kind of mother that tells my second son, after he was caught stealing, that I will visit him in jail. I won't bail him out...but I will still love him and visit him and help him get back on his feet.
I'm the kind that sits on the end of my boys bed and listens while he pours his heart out about a girl that is spreading rumours about him. I ask him "is what she saying true?" When his answer is no, I give him a hug and tell him girls suck. Just keep being you and life will prove she's wrong.
My mothering covers religion, telling them to find out for themself. Ask questions, and believe what you know to be true. Politics, they are all lies, turn off the media and do the best you can with your knowledge.
Modern medicine, question narcotics and choose natural remedies over poison every time.
Sex, be careful and don't make me a gramma with a hood rat. If you lay down and make a baby, you'd best be prepared to care for it because no son of mine is going to be a dead beat.
And life....you can do it, be it, live it. Never let a fear stop you. Never let a no cripple you. Laugh loudly, joke freely and love with all your might.
Do I know how my children will face life?
No I don't....
But I know that I will be there cheering them on, wiping their tears and listening to their troubles. No matter what. No matter why. No matter when.
I look up. My boy wobbles across the floor, taking his first proud steps. He beams at me with that "look what I can do" face. I open my arms wide to him and say "come to mummy", and with determination he stumbled forward and launches into my embrace.
"I'm so proud of you" I tell him and kiss his dirty-blonde-baby-soft curls.
"Ya" he says, wiping his nose on my shirt.
As he climbs back down to try again, I release him.
"K-bye-love-you" I say.
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