I would be lying if I told you that I enjoyed every single moment of my childrens' ages. One and four can be rough, yo.
I know that I'm incredibly blessed with my two little carpet monkeys. I do praise and thank God every night for them. It is just that sometimes, during the day, when they are awake and screaming and getting into stuff and covered in sticky OMGWhatisthat?, I temporarily let my mind wander to a fantasy of their older selves. The versions where they are well adjusted, handsome, intelligent men who have carved out their own niche in life (because of my stellar parenting skills, of course). The ones that know not to eat dog doo and touch a hot stove (Thing 1 knows these things, Thing 2, notsomuch).
Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy my kiddos every day, just not EVERY moment of every day. There are times that I just want to relax and not worry about them burning or maiming themselves, eating foreign objects, falling into water and drowning, crawling into a horse pen and getting kicked in the head (this happened to me as a young one), choking, climbing on furniture that topples on them, playing in the toilet water, trying to eat out of a dog food bowl, coloring on the walls.... you get the picture. Along with the 24 hour nurturing and feeding and bathing and clothing and comforting and loving and pinning their tiny flailing bodies to the changing table so that they don't hurl themselves onto the floor; our main job is to keep these Shorty High Pockets from killing themselves. Go find that in a parenting book. No one says it, because it is the ugly truth. Parenting is an exhausting way to spend your time, 24-7. Any parent who doesn't admit to this is a liar and should be immediately removed from your facebook friends list.
There is always a moment that snaps me into the present. Something that happens during the children's awake time that shoots right to my heart and makes me remember to cherish these times. Oh! the preciousness was thick yesterday. It was my sweet newly 4 year old Thing 1. We were getting him dressed and I pulled out some shorts. They were plaid, so I took the opportunity to tell him everything I knew about plaid.
Me: Do you know what this pattern is called?
Thing 1: A treesussyiessd. (He makes up words when he doesn't know the answer. Long ones.)
Me: It's PLAID. (That's all I know people. There is no Scottish in my bloodline.)
Thing 1, with a twinkle in his eye and a huge smile: Can I wear my Tow Mater shirt?
Me: Of course! He is awesome!
This may seem like a meaningless conversation to you, but the sweet and earnest way in which he was truly excited to wear a t-shirt with a cartoon truck on it made me turn to mush inside. This little guy is in the prime of his innocence. There is no ego. There is no social bullshit. There is just my wonderful, adoring, tow headed boy. He loves his momma without fail and willing gives me bear hugs and sweet kisses. He loves and emulates his dad every day. He loves his baby brother and has been so sweet to him in the past month (the dinosaur treats are really working out for us over here). He loves Toy Story and Cars and Thomas the Train and Bolt. He wants to be a trash truck driver when he grows up and he thinks cowboys are magical. He. Is. Precious. Times like this, I just want to take him and hold him and keep him from everything that is ugly and hurtful in this world. Times like this I just want to wave a magic wand and make him stay four years old and sweet and full of amazement and innocence forever. He so eager to learn! He is so happy! He watches Ellen with me! He tells me that he loves me at least 10 times a day! Moments like these, that happen almost every day, throughout the day, is what makes me so grateful that I was blessed with the opportunity to be a mother.
The love that mothers feel for our children is unparalleled and indescribable. There is something that these little people do to your heart. The first time you meet that new baby and you touch their skin, you are hooked. It is like they take their tiny chubby baby hand and grab a part of your soul, and you will never get it back. It doesn't matter what kind of torture in the form of sleepless nights, colic, tantrums, and substance leaking out of their body onto you; you will ALWAYS love them. They will tire you out and push your limits like no one has ever before, and you will ETERNALLY Thank God for them. They will take your former life and twist it around and dangle it in your face in mockery and you will smother them in kisses and wonder how you could ever live your life without them.
So what is a corn fed girl to do? Do my best to raise two boys to have values and morals and a strong sense of self. Hold on to these tender moments with my children. Cherish these times when they adore me. Soak up all the hugs and kisses and prepare myself for the day when they are too aware of their peers to give ole' mom a hug. Then I have to prepare for the day when they leave home and Lord knows I will have no idea what to do with myself. *Sigh* Yep, those durn kids really mess with your emotions. Ahhh, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Peace, Love and Tiny Baby Feet,