Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Twenty Two:

Sometimes I wonder why the hell I ever had another kid. Two wasn't enough? I needed another screaming asshole to complete my life? Someone to throw orange slices at me, screaming, "That's MY NA-NA (His pacifier)", while using me as his own personalTreadClimber- That is until he reaches the top and can't figure out how to get down. That's when I get a fist/foot/knee in the eye. BUTTTTT, make the mistake of taking him down and we will repeat the cycle again and again and again until I need a shot of Vodka.

Having two that were already potty trained, could make their own lunch, could read wasn't enough... No, I had to have another snuggly bundle of hell that refuses to sleep through the night at 14 months. Allah forbid we with hold that bottle at 2am- Cause if S ain't happy, no one is fucking sleeping.

There are days I wish there was a store that babies actually came from, so I could return him. Mainly, these are the days that start off cute- With him waking me up by screaming, "HEY!!!!" from his crib, and end with mommy in tears, S laughing, G and L locked in their bedroom because they had no idea that this little terror could wreak so much havoc on their lives... And somewhere in the middle of that day there are events like poop in my hair, 30 minutes of playing "Goddamn it, quit hitting print screen! No one needs to see that!", "It's great that you finally learned to pull up, but could you not pull the baby gate down on your head again", "Yummies? You want yummies?" and then Yummies end up everywhere but his mouth, "That's my phone. Not your ball. Let me give you a ball. S, stop pocket dialing Jessica. Seriously child.".

And I know I'm not the only one who feels this way at least once a week. I know I'm not the only one who has days like this with your children... Especially if you have more than one. Once you've gotten one past the milestones that drove you fucking nuts, there comes the next ankle biter to annoy the crap out of you with shit his sibling has never done. It's amazing that we're all not a bunch of bitter alcoholics, honestly.

Recently, I attended a funeral back in Dayton for my Great Aunt. There was some family there that I'd not seen in probably 15 years. Not exactly sure how they are related to me, but close in age and related close enough that it would NOT be socially acceptable to sleep with them unless we were in an Arab country. Everyone was interested in S and my niece P, as well as G and L (But they are older and not as cute)... And we got around to talking about how generally well behaved my kids are.

Now as a mother to a childless couple, there seems to be some need to try to convince them to procreate- Because it's the greatest thing you'll ever do with your life or trying to validate your choices through other people. Look at me. I don't work. I'm a stay home mom. My boys should be the end all be all of my life. Here's the real secret. My life does not revolve around my children. I take care of them. I indulge them. I teach them the things they need to know to be compassionate accepting adults in today's society. I make sure they know they are loved and I would do anything for them, up to and including maim/murder someone for them. But they are not my reason for being. Often I wonder how things for me/me and Dave would have turned out differently if I'd not had G at 19 and L at 21... (Not that I'd give them up for anything, except that little one. I'd like to furlough him at the baby store from time to time.)

But I still found it VERY hard to keep my fucking Collective Mom Mouth (Forever known as the CMM) from saying, "Oh, having kids is the greatest thing I've ever done. It's so fulfilling." What the fuck is wrong with me???

Dude, after the two weeks I've had, tonight's episode of So You Think You Can Dance was the most fulfilling thing in my life.