I thought of saying you’re so “darned” cute, but I think everyone on the planet (especially in my neighborhood) knows I swear like a sailor…so…I mean, really who am I kidding?
They argue with me. And screa bh vfty (thank you Christopher)…and scream. Christopher screams when he’s unhappy. My generally happy, sweet boy, at bedtime, if the stars aren’t aligned, is a holy screaming terror of biblical proportions. Ava, not to be outdone, argues ad nauseum…or ad timeout-dum. They are exhausting. They are small people. They are instigators of insanity. I’m not really sure who said the “I hope you have children just like you” curse to us, and yes, the screaming boy is definitely my punishment, but the argumentative girl? Where did she come from? That so wasn’t me.
I was good! I swear! Petrified into goodness and hated getting in trouble. There’s no possible way I got as many spankings and certainly not as many time outs as this child. I think she weighs getting her way and doing what she wants versus how much she actually hates whatever punishment we’ve threatened. Essentially, she’s got that whole “it’s easier to ask for forgiveness, than permission” bull down pat.
Not to say that she’s not a fun kid, or that Christopher isn’t my little lovie that gives the best “muah” kisses in the world…but sometimes they make me want to run away from home…or run away from home, find a bar and start drinking my weight in fruity vacation cocktails.
Which makes me wonder…because my children’s every flaw is, of course, my fault as their mother…if I were to have had them younger, would I have wanted to escape them so often? Or, would I have been one of those mommies who says “I love being a mommy! It’s the best job ever!”, “Oh, they are such a joy!”, “They’re so brilliant! I know they’re going to do something spectacular with their lives!” And, hell no, I don’t want to sit at a desk answering phones anymore, and I can’t sit at a computer and still see at the end of the day anymore and technology has advanced beyond my current knowledge…and my children are quite entertaining, and funny as all get out, kooky goofballs that make me smile and laugh, but most days, when I’m screaming “STOP GIVING ME ATTITUDE AND TAKE A NAP….YOU NEED TO REST AND RESET YOUR DAY BECAUSE YOU’RE MAKING ME CRAZY” I don’t actually want to be near them, and if I don’t lock them in their room and go take a nap myself or stare at the Glitter Jar, I might actually Google “how to send your children to the moon so you can get some peace and quiet and actually go potty alone” and follow through with the step-by-step directions.
I could, of course, get a babysitter, go get my nails done, or shop at Hobby Lobby with the hopes that something doesn’t get pulled off the shelf and smashed on the floor without me looking… or I could, sit down and do an actual devotional…but my head doesn’t get quiet for that long.
In the meantime, I will attempt to sit down and watch a somewhat grown up movie where no one gets murdered or has sex in front of my 4-year-old and fold 90 loads of laundry before birthday party number 3 for this weekend.
You all enjoy the beginning of fall, especially you New Englanders, and uh, yeah, party on.