Wade and I have always loved loud music. In fact, Wade has gone slightly deaf from listening to way too many rock bands as a teenager. But loud music and loud boys are entirely different. Music puts you in a mood that evokes happiness whereas boy noise can lead you to impending insanity.
When they were little, I marveled at the innate ability for boys to make truck noises before they could speak and how their first word was cock, a mix between car and truck. As they start to grow up the decibel level increases tossed in with more aggressive wrestling and Wade and I are reaching greater depths of madness.
To get them out of the house, I have been indulging them with trips to Aspen with their friends. After lunch the other day, I let them have Big Sky natural sodas and soon after I ran into a friend of mine who was catching me up on his trading business. Up comes Brevitt to interrupt us with an enormous burp followed by his favorite short poem, “excuse me, excuse me from the bottom of my heart, if it had come up the other way it would have been a fart.” My friend commented on what a charming boy he was and the conversation quickly ended. On the way home, I heard Tucker singing so sweetly about his heart but then I realized that he was singing about Brevitt’s earlier burp.
Brevitt lives for his friends and unabashedly incessantly asks for sleepovers. I am certain that when he calls for a sleepover the parents snicker as they stare at the answering machine and listen to his sweet little imploring voice. He is the last thing they need to add to their chaos.
Yesterday, before Brevitt went for his second nights’ stay at the house of his good friend Preston, he started to push my worn out buttons asking me if they could stay in town, unsupervised, for two hours while Preston’s mother worked. I am all for independence but they are not even close to being responsible yet and two hours was just enough time for them to get into a whole lot of trouble. In front of all the people dining outside my favorite Mediterranean restaurant, I reached the end of my tolerance level. When I came up for air and my face regained it’s natural color, a man who had been witnessing the whole exchange said, “come on mom, let him stay for two hours”. I looked at him and asked him if that was bad that I just screamed to my kid in front of the rich and famous.
When I came to retrieve Brevitt, Preston’s mother excitedly told me that when Brevitt and Preston were over Melanie Griffith’s house they saw a bear. I told her to back up for a second. Forget the bear, I wanted to know if Brevitt had met Antonio.
After Preston left, all hell broke loose at the skateboard park. Tucker stole Brevitt’s scooter and shoved him down onto the ramp. Brevitt chased after him and wrestled him to the ground taking back what was rightfully his. What really sent Brevitt was when an older kid reprimanded him for being a bully. The screaming and crying could be heard over in the next county. Of course, as this was all happening, a man, who I greatly admire, was happily passing by on his bike with his two sweet children. I happened to be on the phone with Michele at the time and quickly hung up on her lest he see that I was being an irresponsible mother ignoring my ridiculously annoying children.
We left the park and drove to meet Michele and my nieces to go for a hike in the wildflowers. When they arrived, I emerged from the woods like some horrific beast and my mood matched my facade. Axel had already fallen into stinging nettles and Brevitt and Tucker desperately needed help pooping in the woods with the black flies and mosquitoes.
After ten minutes of hiking the older boys melted in the hot sun and sat down announcing that nature sucks. I left them whining and complaining to go get Tucker who had happily skipped off with his cousins. As we said our goodbyes, Michele teasingly said “let’s make sure to do this again soon.”
As summer progresses and the decibal level increases, I fear I am reaching overload. I need to summon the energy to have the car packed and ready by 9am for outside excursions. Hopefully, by the time summer comes to an end I will not be twitching and in need of a soundproof room with foam walls.
A tired Axel