At this very moment, I am the 'mother' to four kids. Yes, four. The count stands at two 12 year olds, 1 ten year old and 1 six year old. I must have been smoking something mighty fine when I offered this deal. Too bad I used it all up before they took me up on the offer......
When my son was 4 years old, he met a girl in daycare. He was enamored with her from the beginning. He was always reserved and quiet and she was outgoing and loud. They were both only children and had doting parents who paid attention to their every sneeze, cough and hiccup. Her mother was soon to be married to a man with 2 sons and we were soon to give him a littler sister and then they moved away. The good part of the story is that our kids introduced us to each other and we have been great friends who stayed in touch in spite of their move 45 minutes away.
Fast forward to 8 years later. The former 4 year olds are now 12 and each has sisters now. She even has brothers. I give my friend a ton of credit because in addition to the 2 sons she has essentially adopted, they decided to have one of their own. Yes, that equals 4 kids under one roof. I question her sanity every time we talk but she handles it much better than I ever could.
Our kids have grown up very different but neither of them has forgotten the beginning of their relationship. She has turned into a beautiful pre-teen who is determined (read bossy), educated (read opinionated), and determined to be heard (read loud as hell). Even through all of that, I still see the gutsy little girl who stood up for my defenseless little 4 year old and I adore her.
My son's birthday party is tomorrow and the only way she could attend is if her mother dropped her off tonight along with her younger stepbrother. They live over 45 minutes away and their plans tomorrow could not include a trip here. My son has struggled with friendships since we moved here 3 years ago and doesn't have a lot of friends coming tomorrow. So I said ok and they came tonight. As soon as her mother left, 'The Mouth' started. She has taken control of the WII, questioned both boys on their manhood and told us when she was getting in the pool in the morning.
After tolerating all I could, I looked at Sam and asked if it was bedtime yet. He looked at the clock and sadly informed it that it was only 8pm. Currently, I am drinking myself into a stupor and praying for an instant pass-out.