Coffee Date with the Kids

It's really a strange and startling moment when a mother realizes that her first kid is old enough to be a perfectly fulfilling coffee date, capable of stimulating and intelligent conversation. That moment happened to me yesterday, after I had already sat down with my kids to kill time before a morning appointment.

Lets back up 20 minutes. It's an hour drive to Front Royal, where Jonah (3) has his cello lesson every week. By the time we pulled into town, Max (almost 1) needed his morning diaper change....like, really bad. Shew! Now for those lucky souls who have had the grand opportunity to change Max's diaper, you already know that he does not like it one bit. He thrashes around wildly, screaming, hitting, kicking.....all this when there is poo involved and you potentially have a major crisis on your hands. Sometimes literally on your hands. Ew. Sorry....

So, at the coffee shop where in as little as five or six short years ago I sat snickering with my friends about so and so being pregnant with her 4th in 5 years, swearing up and down that I would adhere to my teen ambitions of running wild forever pickin' my banjo and never, ever, absoultely never would I be seen living the life of a stay at home mom.....t'was that very coffee shop that resounded loudly with the blood curdling cries of my own child and occasional bad words from me, stress building quickly and temper rising from the bottom of my mom jeans to the tippy top of my head, which was unkempt, as I had forgotten to brush my hair in the frazzled morning rush to get everyone out the door.
Finished with the diaper at last, the three of us exited the bathroom, all smiles, nodding hello to aquaintences and friends, pretending that surely it must have been some other person screaming madly, covering the John Mayer or whatever blahness was helping all those relaxed people to relax even more. I ordered a coffee for myself, raspberry nector tea for jonah, and a scone for us all to share. I set up a high chair and sat down, happy to have a coffee after a long morning without. Across from me sat my tow headed little boy with a Carhardt coat, torn pants tucked into clunky boots - on the wrong feet. He sipped his hot tea thoughtfully, and the cup looked huge in his little hands. He was silent through the diaper changing episode, but now that Max sat happily stuffing scone into his mouth, he said what needed to be said; a gentle reprimand:

"Mom, you know something: ALL babies scream and cry sometimes, but NOT all moms get stressed out about it."

Insightful as always. Steady and level headed like his dad.*Sigh*. It seems this kid always knows what to say to me and when to say it. He, being the one with me and Max constantly, knows better than anyone else how stressful it can be to get through colic, teething, etc; the things of the first year. That morning, like many mornings, I half heartedly wished I could pursuade myself to put them in daycare and do something that made *me* feel useful and intelligent. Change out of the mom jeans, ya know? Ever attentive to my feelings, Jojo perhaps caught onto my secret longings, for later in the conversation he told me fondly,

"My favorite thing about you is loving you, and my second favorite thing about you is that you never go away."

And just like that, I knew it was worth whatever it took. <3