Dear Emerson,


Dear Emerson,

Since this blog will be printed in a book, I realized that I could, in a sense talk to you as a future adult for a minute. The idea that I might actually be able to reason with you at some point seems far fetched and obscure to my frazzled brain, but I'm assuming you will grow up eventually because I know Heavenly Father loves me, and I have faith that he is not unaware of my little trials. Let me preface this by saying that I love you so much. Maybe that isn't as obvious when I get mad at you, which hopefully doesn't dominate too much of your memory, but I do love you, perhaps even more for your tenacity.

But, little dude, you are driving me insane.

You and Grace went with your Dad this morning to help get some work done at Grandma's house. Porter's asleep. The house is quieter than I've heard it in months. As I walked around trying to decide what to do with myself, I went into the living room and sat down. I don't go in there often, so I thought I would just sit. As I was realizing that I needed to clean goobers off the couches, I saw some suspicious lines on the sofa. I moved closer. Not just any marks, slashes. It looked like it had been done with a knife. I realized suddenly that the other day when you shuffled away from me, hands behind your back, and then slammed a kitchen drawer, that you must have been putting a knife away. You cut my leather couch. One of the last few things I have that still looks nice. (I realize at this point that I should be grateful that other catastrophes that could have, didn't happen, you running with a knife being the last of a list. Anyone who knows your dad well would remind me of a story about a knife making it's way into his eye when he was a child. Yes, I am grateful, but still frustrated.)

It's probably a good thing you're not here. I can deal with it when I've cooled down. I've already hidden the knives. They'll have to go in a secret place, along with all the markers, small flushable toys, and jewelry.

Your dad and I joke about making a spreadsheet of damages, just so someday you'll know. I was kind of reluctant, since you really aren't accountable for them, but I've decided it's fair that "reasonable Emerson" know some of the reasons why there are so many "psycho-mad mommy" memories. If anything, maybe it will clarify why you don't have much of a mission fund yet.

This list is from the last year.

Family Room window replacement $200.00
Carpet Cleaning $200.00
Sewage Stoppage $2500.00 (For the story, click to the left.)
Piano Repair $100.00
Family Room couches $1400.00 (from the first knife incident, and subsequent hide and seek game)
Couch Covers for above mentioned knife incident 200.00 (ruined by a scissors incident)
Paint $100.00
Burned Mattress at the Hyatt $200.00 (Click left for story)
Chandelier crystals $100.00
Curtain rods $30.00
Lost Wedding Ring $4000.00 (gulp) (Click left for story)
My favorite Vase $45.00
Misc (for anything I've missed) $100.00

Damages for the year... $9175.00

Again, I love you. I hope you never question that. But I hope that someday, when I'm old and senile, you might be a little more patient with me, because we're trying so hard to be patient with you.

Comments

Jen Olson Brown said…
Annie. I feel your pain. You are such a trooper. So the pioneers had to endure not having a home, and we stable folk have our homes torn apart. I love that you itemized his wake. Well done. (And it's ok for us to teach our kids to protect out stuff. I still remember my mom crying over a headless Lladro figurine that my brother broke. She said calmly, "Son, I love you more than this figurine." But her broken heart and tears told the whole story. And hopefully, when Emerson is older, he remembers having tortured you, and how he's lucky to be alive!
Allison said…
Um, good thing you're doing grocery smarts! Show John the total of how much you saved at the end of the year and maybe he'll let you get a ring- or you could put it aside for Emerson or Porter's mission fund. So sad, yet I think it's kind of funny. We'll see who's laughing if I'm ever in your shoes.
Stephanie said…
I don't know how you do it. I thought how much damage could one kid really do..and then I read your list. I think if one of my kids ever did any of those things on that list...I would beat them! Okay not really because it is illegal but man it would be hard for me to control myself! Anyways...good luck and remember he will go to school soon!
Sue said…
Oh my goodness, someone is definitely watching over Emerson! And you too, Annie:) He's lucky to have you:)
Anonymous said…
Oh Annie! I am so sorry. Life is stressful enough without having to worry about extra money costs for accidents. No matter how much you think you might be a "bad" mom on certain days, I know that you are a wonderful mom, loving, fun, patient and your kids will remember that.
Oh my gosh Annie! That little Emerson of yours is a pistol :). I stand in awe at your patience with him though and your ability to see the bright side. Hang in there...
Laurel said…
WOW! I knew you were my idol when I worked with you in YW, now you are my idylic mom too. Maybe it is good that my house never looks as nice as yours and my ring wasn't as expensive. Then I don't have to miss them. You are wonderful to remember that the value of your son exceeds all of the other precious possesions of this world.
Lesley Wright said…
OH MY! I thought Shane was a terror. That list is so long! I am so sorry, no wonder why you say "psycho-mad mommy" memories. Its crazy how little kids get the ideas for the distruction they do. But he is adorable.
Ashlin said…
Sorry Annie, no offense, but Brayden isn't allowed to hangout with Emerson when they get older. I'm not as patient as you. ;)
Jen Olson Brown said…
Annie- Thank you for holding the fort while I took care of business. Carson didn't tell me I was the one who needed to do that, and I'm sorry it cut everything short. I hope you know I love ya and I'm excited to do this again! Have a great weekend!
Brenden+Nikki said…
Holy cow little Emerson!! Oh Annie you're such a trooper! You just have to think (at least I'm assuming this is how it works) that he will grow into this energy, curiosity, and tenancity like you said, and will use it to do something wonderful for the world when he's older. And then you'll
be recognized as the mom who raised a genius!