"We're not like a normal family."

How many times have I heard my kids say that? Oh, about twenty hundred zillion.

I was at a friend's impeccably clean an uncluttered house this evening doing creative things. When I got there at 8:00 pm it was just her and I at home.
Within the hour, her husband came home with their 17 year old son who had been working. He was looking for some dinner and settled on a bowl of healthy breakfast cereal. No bright neon colours. No prizes in the box and no sugar added. There was a bucket of ju-jubes on the counter, and he did not take a single one.

When he had finished eating, he put the bowl in the dishwasher, the box of cereal back in the cupboard and the milk in the fridge. And no one told him to. It's like he just knew.

A few minutes later, her almost 15 year old daughter was dropped off. She'd been at the gym for the past 6 hours and was also looking for a meal. While she's thinking about her options, she helps herself to a yogurt and ponders out loud. Terry tells her she needs a protien and more dairy and suggests a number of tasty alternatives.

Katie opts for perogies and starts to make them, bringing water to a boil while frying some onions. "Kate? Are you making perogies?" Robbie asks.
"Yeah."
"Could you make some for me too, please?" He asks politely.
"OK."
"You know you have to boil them first, right?"
"Uh, huh."

She made the perogies, they both ate in the kitchen, (not in every room but) put their dishes away and cleaned up after themselves. They had those long boxer pajamas on, and said good night at 10:00 pm.

Her house was still clean and her kids were in bed.
No one ate any ju jubes.


Or left dirty dishes all over the house.
Or dropped their clothes onto the bathroom floor.
Or spoke loudly. Disrespectfully. Sarcastically.
No one said, "I'll do it tomorrow."
There was no argument over bedtimes.
There was not one more show that had to be watched.
No one had their music on full blast.
No one kept getting up for more water, another sugar loaded snack, or to complain that they weren't tired.

I got home at 12:30 am.
Clint just headed out for a walk.
I wandered through my house and picked up 14 plastic cups. Three plates. Fourteen sock balls. And don't get me started on their bathroom.

If there are any young women reading this blog, let this post serve as a warning. If you have fallen for any of my boys and are thinking they're great marriage material ... please know that I have utterly failed in this area while raising them. No one is ever sleeping in my house before midnight. No one has ever put anything in the dishwasher without me first telling them to, twice. Towels are not hung up and laundry is rarely put in the hamper. Talk is loud, music is louder. And the TV is always on. I'm already weeping for my poor daughters-in-law.

My attempts at training them how to be humans has been met with, "But we're not like a normal family. Quit trying to make us into something we're not."

I wonder how much I'll miss them when they move out?


Three things I'm thankful for:
1. Friends who still like me even though I don't have a normal family.
2. Havarti Cheese
3. Starbuck's mandarin orange loaf

Shalom,