So, C has developed a new...talent? hobby? interest? Something like that, anyway.
When he's in the shower, he likes to sing. I don't mean Madonna "Papa Don't Preach" type singing. I mean, making up his own songs singing. It's quite entertaining for those of us on the outside. Today's concert started out with a quiet version of "help me, help me, help me", peaked with "I'm a crocodile" and had an encore of gibberish. The last part I went and stood outside the bathroom, on the phone with D, and even D was cracking up. I was laughing so hard I couldn't even tell C he needed to get done and get out of the shower. I told D that next time, I'm going to get out the video camera and tape it. I can see it now...
C: Mom, I want to bring my girlfriend home to meet you and D. You, uh...you don't have any naked pictures of me on a bearskin rug or anything do you?
Me: No, sweetheart, no bear skin rug pictures.
Two days later...
Me: So, girlfriend, I have a video from when C was younger. Why don't we watch it?
I'm such an evil mommy. :)
So this week, C takes his first FCAT test. I'm worried, but not. I'm worried, because this is really pretty much a make or break test. I'm not because C has always done well on these types of things in the past. But I can't help but be afraid that he might freak out and not do well, and end up repeating 3rd grade over something this silly. J is taking great pleasure in reminding C that he doesn't have to take this test. Brothers...they live to torment each other.
I found myself making some rather...unusual mistakes today. Well, I don't know that I would call them mistakes, exactly, considering the direction D and I's relationship has been heading. We are moving in together, quite possibly within the next few months. But what I found myself doing today shocked even me.
I was in my mommy group (which I know I was going to leave, but it's like a soap opera...you get hooked and can't stop) and there were 3 questions that I answered this afternoon. I felt they were good questions, one that deserved honest answers. The type of question required me to speak about my relationship with D as well as my children, and I found myself referring to the boys as "our" kids. Usually, I call them "my" kids, or "my" boys, or whatever. It's always been "my", though, because SD doesn't deserve any credit for them, and I've been raising them alone. And I've answered other questions since meeting D that required me to talk about both my relationship with him and my kids, and used "my". But today, I found myself using "our". Initially, I was surprised, and even kind of thought, "what the heck did I do that for?" I even said it out loud, at which point I ended up explaining to D what I'd done. He laughed and said he'd found himself calling C "son" so he didn't think it was a big deal. Later, after I did it the 3rd time, he even said he didn't mind.
So, the first time I did it, I surprised myself. The second time I did it, it was more like, "oh, for Pete's sake, I did that again." The third time, I decided it was hopeless and I just need to accept that apparently this is what I'll be doing from now on. I'm not sure why I did it. I'm not sure what it was that made me suddenly think of them as "ours" instead of mine. I do know one thing, though. When I was with SD, even though he helped conceive them, I never ever thought of them as "ours". Even then, the boys were always "my". So...the fact that I am thinking this way about D says a lot about how I feel about him and our relationship.
It also just proves that DNA is not what makes a family, or a father. In the short time that D has been a part of our lives, he's already acted more like a father to them, without even trying, than SD has in their entire lives. They seem to have readily accepted him as a part of our lives and our family. I know there will probably be a day when they will rebel and pull the "you're not my dad" bit on him. I know there will come a day when they will probably resent him, hate him, or at the very least, make his life difficult, which means mine will be difficult. But I figure that's normal and bearable. And we'll deal with that if and when that day arrives.
It's very strange. I used to swear that no man would ever meet my kids before we'd been dating at least 6 months, and even then, only if the relationship was serious. I stuck to that rule for many years. No man I ever dated met my kids. And then D came along. And we haven't been together 6 months, but he's already met the kids, and I already can see him as their dad. We're already moving in together. The kids have accepted him and have no problems with him and I being together. And none of this feels rushed, or like a mistake, and I don't feel like I should feel guilty that we didn't wait longer for this stuff. I guess whoever said that when it's right, you'll know it, knew what he or she was talking about.