After the horrible tragedy in Newton, I gave myself a very stern lashing about being more grateful for my beautiful healthy children.
And I am grateful. Truly.
And I love them to pieces. Most days.
Then…on days where the three and one year old fight…all day…or the ten-year old whines despite having every amazing thing handed to her in life (QUITE UNLIKE MY CHILDHOOD), or my seventeen year old is unmotivated to make important college decisions…I wanna stick my thumb out and find a small quiet town….where no one knows my name…
I do love my life. Really and truly.
I mean…who doesn’t love a life filled with cries, crap diapers, dirty bottles, lot’s of MESSES, tons of laundry, and ungrateful little beasts?
Oh and love. Yes, it is filled with love.
My three and one year old do not love me right now. Nope, they sure don’t. They actually cry when they see me in the mornings (if I am being honest, they cry every time they see me). If daddy goes to get them out of bed I hear laughter and giggles. I come? Cries and body throws.
Hummm…tells me something huh?
My ten-year old loves me though. Recently, at an arcade, she won lots of those silly, misleading ‘prize’ tickets. And her sweet soul decided to get ME something with her tickets instead of some ridiculous piece of plastic crap (or candy) that one usually gets to choose from. She knows me so well, she really put a lot of thought into her choice.
Yes. A shaker. A DRINK shaker.
Hummmm…tells me something huh?
Good grief I am a mean, unloving, border-line alcoholic mother!
Damn it. Hand me my glass of wine.