They May Never Leave Home

If my hubbie is home, I like to try to get out for a walk after the boys are tucked into bed for the night. (Try is the operative word in the last sentence. I try. Alot. Not much success, but I try.) Aidan has discovered my early evening sojourns around the neighborhood and he Is. Not. Pleased.

A few nights ago, he nagged me into admitting that I was planning a walk after he and Brennan were in bed. This led to such a breakdown among the boys that I lied and said I stay home. (I know. I lied. Bad Mommy. Bad.) But I went for a walk anyway and well, like a highschooler trying to sneak in after midnight curfew, I got caught. Only I get caught by a sneaky little five year old.

This led to the following conversation with Aidan as I tucked him into bed the next night:

Aidan: "Mom, I don't want you to go anywhere tonight."

Me: "I'm not going anywhere."

Aidan: "No?"

Me: "No. I am going to change into my pjs and get ready for bed. Okay?"

Aidan looks at me with suspicion and holds my gaze for a minute or two. "You went for a walk last night even though you said you weren't going too."

I sigh the despondent sigh of mothers with codependent children everywhere. "Aidan, Mommies need exercise. Okay? I go for walks so I can get exercise." I am about to launch in a discussion of the current state of my giant ass, but stop when I recall my telling him when he was three that I was walking my large butt off around the neighborhood and he repeated it to his preschool teacher.

Aidan grabs my hand and says, "You can get your exercise with me, Mom. Brennan and I will walk with you. Everyday. You don't need to go alone. We want to be with you."

"Aidan, you are with me. All the time you are with me."

"No I'm not. I have to sleep alone. Can you sleep in my bed tonight?"

I shake my head back and forth trying not to smile. "No, honey, Mommy has to sleep in her bed."

"Why?"

"Because I have to sleep with Daddy."

"But why? Why do the Daddies get to sleep with the Mommies and the kids have to sleep alone? When is it my turn?"

Oh Dear Lord, my head hurts. Before I can respond with an appropriate parent response, Aidan interjects, "I know. How about when Daddy goes out of town, I can have my turn? You can just scoop me up while I'm sleeping Mom. It won't wake me. And put me into your bed. Then I can be with you."

I decide to adopt the cop out of parents everywhere and respond: "We'll see Aidan. We'll see."

I have a strange feeling that my boys are going to be those children who move into my finished basement until they are ready for retirement.