The Middle One threw his beloved stuffed black-lab dog in a tree-on accident of course. He did a fantastic job. It is high and it is stuck but good. I spent a good portion of the day throwing basketballs at it. I hit it every time, but the thing would not budge. I tried to leave it alone. He even made peace with waiting for his dad to get home and try. I thought I had moved on and then I found myself perched on a chair (in wedge sandals no less) raising the landlord’s rake up as far as I could go to try to shove him over the branch and down the his freedom. No luck.
I was so close it hurt. Another inch and I would have been golden. I was close enough that I knew my husband, with his 6’3″ frame could come home and get it right away.
This is the twisted reason I spent so much damn time on the dog-The Husband, The Hero. He can reach anything. He fixes broken toys. He puts bunk beds together. He can figure out the stupid Lego sets without cursing and throwing the things across the room. (I might do that-maybe once.)
I can throw a basketball, grab a rake, swing from branches all day to get that stupid dog and no one will remember because dad will swoop in at the 11th hour and poof-the dog is magically in the boy’s bed by morning. My efforts are invisible. I understand the job of motherhood is mostly filled with “unsung-ness” and usually I am fine with it. I was a teacher after all. I’m used to behind the scenes heroism. But there are times when I see my kid look at someone with those worship eyes and I want to be the hero- even just once.
I am guilty of inflicting the invisibleness too. The Middle One was correct in yesterday’s post-his Ganny did move the dresser into his room. I wasn’t here. My husband talked only of his brother in law and father so I didn’t even factor her in. I should have known that despite being dressed for a wedding shower, she would gamely grab a corner and hoist the dresser up two flights of stairs. We women can and will do just about anything (except reach into a ten foot tree) in the name of helping our kids. We are the heroes that go unnoticed. Or do we? I’m told my son was playing Wii the entire time the dresser moving process was going on, but he still remembered his Ganny playing a part. Maybe, just maybe that means I’ll be given some hero credit for the return of Blackie the Dog.
**I just finished re-reading this and I feel the need to apologize for my compulsive need to make up words that end in Ness. It’s a sickness-sorry.
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