And This is Ben

When I was little I used to play house all the time. I was the mom, of course. My husband's name was "Steve." We had two beautiful children! Page Ann--our baby girl--was a hot water bottle that wore my little sister's old baby sleepers. My toddler was a tan stuffed animal monkey with a big gross red smile. I dressed him in Carly's blue 2t corduroys and a sweat shirt that could be for a boy (but was really for a girl, because it was Carly's), and called him Benjamin Wells. That was my boy name always: Benjamin Wells. When my first son was born, my husband's family had a naming tradition we adhered to. So "Benjamin Wells" was given to my next son (born five years later). He just turned 7. He's not as weird as a monkey dressed in hand me downs (and much, MUCH more conventional than a water bottle dressed in a sleeper), but he's not at all what you might expect, either.He calls me "Motheh" or "Kacy."He likes to eat a big meatball at the Spaghetti Factory every year for his birthday.

He told me last night that he wants to be a teacher. I got all excited and started asking him for more details because he never offers this kind of insight into himself. When pressed, he told me he wanted to go to the least amount of college possible and major in bubbles and gas. Then he told me he wanted to buy bubblesandgas.com. Christian checked to see if it is available. (It is.)
He names all his pets and stuffed animals "Bobalina."He wanted a Santa hat for Christmas--and that's really all he wanted from me. But I did see a letter he wrote to Santa at school. It said, "I want an iPod touch for Christmas. And a computer. I believe in you. From Ben." He also wrote a Christmas story called Stupid Olive. It's about a dog who thinks she is a reindeer and how stupid she is.

Lately he has been singing contemplatively and seductively, "I smelled my poo. It smelled like you." Ben is surprising. He is the funniest of my kids, the truly quirkiest, and hardest to describe. Adults are often put off by him because, well, he's rude. He won't ever give you five or respond to friendly, chummy banter. It has been the greatest treat to me as the motheh of Ben that his first grade teacher thinks he is wonderful, charming, smart, delightful. Bless her heart! An adult who gets Ben--it's kind of a litmus test for awesomeness.

Ben has humbled me more than any of my children--and by humble I mean humiliate. In his 7 years he has acted horribly in front of people, thrown fits in public, refused to speak at kindergarten evaluation, looked awful at church, behaved oddly around cashiers, and embarrassed me even though it has always been clear to me and Christian that Ben is good, bright, articulate, kind, thoughtful, and sensitive. You can't really be Ben's mother and care about what other people think of you and your parenting, which is really great because keeping up parenting appearances is exhausting.

I know it might sound weird that someone like me who carried around a headless water bottle in baby clothes ever really cared about parenting appearances but I did, and it is much easier and better when you don't . You don't take as many pictures of your kids in coordinating outfits and you let them drink way more Sprite than you should, but it's all for the best.