With Game of Thrones season upon us, my husband and I are excited about having our Sunday night dates back with HBO, as it’s pretty much our favorite show to watch together. We turn the TV on and drift away to the mythical lands, taking a little break from parent life for a while. But I realized that my actual life isn’t much different than what Daenerys Targaryen deals with on a daily basis with her dragons. In fact, we could probably swap stories and be BFFs. (Maybe she’ll even teach me how to braid my hair perfectly like hers.)
While my dragons weren’t born of fire and didn’t technically hatch, I played a pretty big role with carrying them in my womb for nine months and then pushing them out of me. Yup, I would say that though Khaleesi and I (and all moms, because it doesn’t really matter what role you played in the birthing process, to be honest) have very different birthing stories, they're equally important.
These kids of mine are 8 years old and 10 months old, and even though it might not seem possible, they fight. In fact, they fight a lot. The little one gets into all of her big brother's things and even figured out how to turn the Xbox on and off. And loves to do it while he’s in the middle of a game, of course. So where am I in this equation? I get to be the mediator, always breaking up the fights.
Just like my girl Daenerys, I often can’t keep my kids under control. Yes, it happens to the best of us, even a princess who somehow managed to have three dragons claim her as their mom. At least mine can’t fly away, because then life would really be interesting.
Now, I can only imagine what goes down during mealtime in the Targaryen household, but I picture it to be an awful lot of complaining that the meat the dragons are being fed is either over- or undercooked -— because we’re always being reminded how we did not get it just right. In our house, it’s messy and filled with drama. No one can ever make a decision about what they want to eat, yet they’re very opinionated about the options that are laid before them. And after a decision finally gets made, half of the meal always winds up on the floor. Every. Single. Time.
Those dragons that belong to Ms. Targaryen have some major ‘tudes, which my children can definitely match. I’m not sure if these children just aren’t sleeping enough or what the deal is, but the eye-rolling and fire-breathing is out of control!
Life is chaotic every day. The end.
Due to the aggressive nature of Khaleesi’s dragons, they were sent to live in a dungeon, only seeing the light of day whenever someone walks down there and approaches them. My son might be able to relate to this. Whenever the going gets tough, to his room he goes and he's not allowed to open the door until he’s approached by us first.
It happens. Most times it’s an accident or perhaps my son playing too hard with his little sister, but much like getting caught in the path of Khaleesi’s dragons, my kids can wreak some havoc.
Either that or they have the amazing ability to completely demolish every toy they've ever begged for. Though I’ve never seen the evidence, they sure possess some destructive abilities.
Khaleesi loves her dragons and I love mine. And with so much love floating around, lots of protective values form, and they are strong. Just like I wouldn’t ever let anything happen to my little dragons, they keep their eyes on me too. They always know where I am and what I’m up to, and no one is allowed to mess with me. Besides them, of course.
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