It was the time of night where I like to settle into the hollowed out spot on the corner of the sofa, the one next to the lamp for reading and the table for setting down a cup of tea. Dishes washed and laundry folded, I sat down and anticipated an evening with a hot mug, a cookie or two, and complete control of the TV remote. I hung up my invisible ‘Mom Off-Duty’ sign, and propped my feet up on the coffee table. My son, lounging on the chair next to me, tried to engage me in conversation. This is the same son who spent the last three hours challenging my authority, bickering with his sisters and, truth be told, driving me a little bit mad.
The art of mothering
March 27, 2013 by Leave a Comment