Wishing and hoping.

I wish for my kid to never ever know the pain of having to pick and choose where you go, who you see, and what you do for each and every holiday. I always feel so guilty that I can’t spread myself thinner, that I can’t be everywhere at once, and I hope that he never ever has to feel that way. Luckily for him, Mike and I are married for eternity and so he’ll never have to worry about choosing one parent over another or the guilt that goes along with it.

Grandparents will always be another story entirely for him.

I also hope that he has more intelligence than I do, enough to help him discern between real, awesome relationships and not-so-great relationships and devote himself more to the relationships that are worth more. I consistently fail in this area, although I’m working on it. But more importantly, I hope no one ever makes him feel guilty for which relationships he chooses to devote time to, despite whether or not they seem superior to anyone else. I was made to feel this way today, and I didn’t like it one bit as is evident by the blog. It’s really nobody’s business, after all, but mine. And in his case, his.

I just hope that he has it better than me, that he has just enough compassion for the world to care about things but not so much that he can’t stand up for himself when he thinks he’s been wronged or when he doesn’t agree with the situation.