Not even gonna lie… sometimes I have fantasies about what life will be like when all my kids are in school.
Like, I’ll have the whole house to myself. I can clean without a trail of child-droppings behind me. I can do laundry and maybe watch some Netflix between loads. I can prep supper without little people tugging on me while whining about being hungry and other basic-needs malarkey.
But as good as those fantasies are–oh, let’s not kid ourselves, they’re pretty great–there’s something they don’t tell you about parenting.
You’re children will make you bipolar. Example: There’s nothing like that seething moment when you ask your child to do something, and they look you in the eye with a daring defiance and say, “No.” You may not have been an old-fashioned, Southern momma before, but you suddenly feel the urge to find a wooden spoon…
But just as quickly as you can find a good bar of soap to wash that mouth out, your child will look at you sweetly and say, “I love you,” and no song will ever sound sweeter. Your child will win an award or a ballgame or just spell something correctly for the first time ever, and you’ll beam like he just won a Nobel Prize.
And your child will walk out the door for their first day of school, and you’ll be counting down the minutes until they come back. Sure the first 30 minutes will be blissful… until you remember that they’re the whole reason you exist and every darn thing you’ve done was for those little twerps… and you’re kinda sorta lost without them.
And as soon as they come home you’ll be hugging them and asking about their day and maybe counting the minutes until they go back again.
Or is that just me? 😛