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Both phases of parenthood – the newborn years and the almost-adult ones – are bookended by sleep deprivation, though for different reasons.
Jen stares and stares at the door to her son’s bedroom. How had she come to raise a murderer?
She’d thought motherhood was so boring at the time, so unrewarding, the hours and hours dedicated to the same tasks in a variety of orders. But it wasn’t, she now knows; to say so is like saying breathing is boring.
He smokes and he swears – both things Jen does, from time to time – but, nevertheless, both offensive when seen through the ruthless lens of motherhood.
Was she a shit mother, or just a human?
He’s so confident. She has done one thing right, at least. Hopefully Todd will never sit up at night and doubt his own parenting, his intellect, his self.
The maternal habit of a lifetime, feeling guilty no matter which she chose.
he had mellowed somewhat, began to allow himself to feel, to reveal an oozing, doughy version of himself; a better grandfather than he was a parent. They got so little time together.
Banter can hide the worst sins. Some people laugh to hide their shame, they laugh instead of saying I feel embarrassed and small.
