He'll always be my best boy. No matter what he said that night.

There are those moments with children after a marriage ends and there is a fissure in a family that can be taken personally. Too personally.

Those moments when a small child says what he's thinking, not knowing how raw it can be for the parent to hear. Those moments when a kid is just a kid and none of the weighty emotional stuff that cracked a house in two factor into his words. 

Those moments when a parenting agreement or heated text messages or disagreements about how bedtimes and McDonald's and Scooby Doo are all handled in different homes, all give way to some simple sentence shot out of your kid's mouth. Usually during the most intimate moments -- snuggling just before saying goodnight, laughing during bath time, talking about the day over dinner, hugging goodbye before you send them off to be with the other parent.

It could be a dagger to the heart, yes. But most of the time -- and I say this completely honestly -- it is funny.  Sure, my feelings get hurt on occasion. But there will soon enough be plenty more for him to deal with -- some of it pretty heavy -- as a child of divorced parents. For now, I choose to laugh.

Or at least I did the night Lil E and I were cuddled up in his bed. We'd read a book and he was beaming because he recognized and read several words on the pages. I hugged him harder, planted kisses all over his face that made him giggle and squeal, "You giving me nee-nees!," the same as he has since he was one.

I turned off the lights, pulled him in even closer and whispered what I say to him often.

"In all the world, I love you the most," His soft hair brushed across my closed eyes. "I love you the most, baby."

He sat up abruptly, clearly in proclamation.

"And I," he said, one hand clutching three stuffed animal babies and a pointed finger on the other jabbing the air, "love Daddy the most."

I smiled. It was dark and he couldn't see me. I eased him back on to his pillow.

"Well, honey," I said, a little louder than my previous whisper. "You don't have to choose like that. You can love people equally."

Maybe it was selfish. But I see him protecting his dad and I don't want him to feel that pressure. Especially so soon.

Not to worry, he brought it all back down.

"Well, I do. I love Daddy the most," he curled up into me, wrapping my arm around his body, speaking confidently over his shoulder to me. "I love Daddy the most in the world."

"OK," I said. How could I argue? How could I say another thing. This was, even for a moment (God help me a moment), his truth.

"And he loves me the most in the world. And so do you."

There it was. The real golden egg.

"Yes, both Mommy and Daddy love you the most. That's important." I smiled. I got it.

There was a brief pause. Enough for me to relax, feel his back as he breathed into me. Then one last sentence to end the night.

"And I do, I love Daddy the most."

Oh yes, I really got it. Really, really got it.

No, REALLY, KID. MOMMY GETS IT. Mommy totally, completely is disabling text messaging for a bit to let it all soak in and really get it.

I kid. Not about getting it. About taking it too seriously. Anyway, he can save his proclamations of love for me for the podium or the crazy "oh my God, I'm on TV!" wave behind Matt Lauer. I'm good with that. And for now, I assure you, I get it.

Comments

[furiousBall]

those sting a little bit, don't they? but what's important is his dinosaur is nice enough to give all those other toys a ride

[Jessica Ashley (Sassafrass)]

Yeahhhh...tough on the mama, benevolent to the T-Rex. That is what counts.

[c]

Whenever I tell my 3 yr old daughter that she's growing up so big and strong, she says, "I'm gonna grow up big like [insert Home-wrecking girlfriend's name here]!" Yay. Just what I need. lol Gotta laugh, because otherwise it would make me sad.