For those who don’t remember, I established the sovereign nation of No-Where-istan (http://40andoverblog.com/?p=1404;http://40andoverblog.com/?p=1425; http://40andoverblog.com/?p=1432; http://40andoverblog.com/?p=1541; http://40andoverblog.com/?p=1586; http://40andoverblog.com/?p=1599; http://40andoverblog.com/?p=1756; http://40andoverblog.com/?p=1870; and http://40andoverblog.com/?p=2001).
This evening, it is a much needed refuge. POB (partner of blogger), TLP (our son, the little prince) and I were playing a trivia game about ancient civilizations. He was beating us handily. (Tragic that I lack the factual knowledge to keep up with my 9 year-old.) If you answer correctly the question posed, you keep the card. The one with the most cards wins. There is a wild card where you can take a card of a person of your choice. TLP got the wild card twice and the first time took one from my winnings. The second time, he also took a card from me. I said all in good fun, “That’s not fair!! Take it from [POB]!! Look at all the cards she has!!” TLP responded, “I have to favor my biological mother.”
The crash you just heard is my world in pieces. And I had to keep going with the game. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and POB must have said something to TLP. TLP was very sad and felt horrible.
I said, “Sweetie, I am very sad but you need to be able to be honest and open with your feelings, and you need to be open to the response as well.”
We all hugged and I whispered, “I love you more this minute than last, and I will love you more a minute from now. Why?”
TLP responded, “because love always grows, Emom.”
“That’s right, buddy.”
It is the thing we say when I kiss him good night. Sometimes those rituals are more soothing to the adult than the child.
He is now listening to an audiobook about Darwin and evolution and reading a book about trains (multi-tasking seems to work for him). I am sitting in our living room, with my guts kicked out and tears streaming. I can never be his biological mother. But it never occurred to me that I would love him any different.
Now, as this is the second time he has said this, it occurs to me that he loves me differently, and in a lesser way. I know he is processing our nouvelle famille nuclear and that time will tell all. I have to give him that time.
But right now, I am grateful to live in that comical creation in my head that allows me to set the rules of love and life (and health care) along with a national flag and stamp.
And, a mythical place where loving a little boy with all my heart doesn’t break my heart.