My mother once gave me a wooden plaque that now hangs on the wall near my desk that reads "there is a special place in Heaven for the mother of three boys."
There are days when I wonder why in hell I got stuck with my three but then, there are times like tonight when it is good to know I have such good sons.
My oldest, Yule, the one in HI, just turned 21 yesterday and called to tell me he survived his bar hopping escapades of last night. Most young men would NOT tell their mom that they drank so much they puked, not once, but at least twice, as he moved with a crowd from one bar to the next. And, yes, I immediately asked who was driving and found out they were all in cabs. Now, drinking to the point of being sick is not necessarily the smartest thing to do, but there is a certain awareness when Yule knew in advance to hire a taxi for the night. It makes me smile, to know that some of my nagging and constant advice has actually sunk in about being reasonably responsible if you plan to drink. And, I'm happy to see that we also have a pretty good relationship for Yule to want to call his mom and talk for twenty minutes while feeling somewhat lethargic and hung over. Of course, he also wanted advice for his bad hangover, which I was happy to provide--a hot shower, cold milk and/ or water, and lots of salty foods like pretzels to help counterbalance his acid system.
It's a good feeling to have Yule call and chat about once a week as I know many people whose kids rarely keep in touch either by phone or email.
I have two other sons who will turn 21 in 2 and 4 years respectively; I imagine they will survive the parties as well as their older brother has done at his as they are equally as responsible and have learned to watch Yule's example and then follow on a slightly less reckless path.
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