**Note: This post was actually written several months ago (hence the harvesting reference) but I never got around to publishing it. I re-read it today & thought it was still relevant. And still funny. And still a very accurate representation of how weird kids are.**
Yes, motherhood is beautiful.
Obviously, I love my children more than life itself.
But something that nobody ever warned me about?
Something that I never even fathomed to be true until I had children of my own?
Kids are effing weird.
I mean, seriously so bizarre that sometimes the things they do/say will stop me dead in my tracks and make me wonder how on earth I share DNA with the little creatures.
This weekend, Greg was helping his dad harvest so it was me and the kiddos all weekend. Save Saturday morning, it was just us for the entire weekend. Now, under normal tw0-parent/two-kid weekends, I still look forward to Monday because it’s a legitimate excuse to get away from my kids for a few hours.
Those that don’t have kids are thinking: “She’s horrible! I cannot believe that a mother would say that about her own children!”
Those that do have kids are thinking, “Ha! Me too!”
In all seriousness, I adore my kids but I am not a stay-at-home-mom for a reason. I know that. My husband knows that. My kids will learn that when they get a little older.
Here are a few things that went down in mi casa this weekend:
- Brock covered himself and his sister in stickers. Other things that were attacked: both of their sippy cups, the living room carpet & my shirt. The carpet I picked up as soon as they were finished but I didn’t even notice my shirt until we got home from 3 different stores. How did I not notice that?
- Everywhere we went (even from the living room into the laundry room), Brock had to take arm loads of toys with him. At one point, I looked down and he was lugging around the following items: sippy cup, his beloved brown dog, a corn pillow, a toy microphone & a plastic pig. When I asked him if he was packing for an apocalypse, he simply said, “Yep” and trotted merrily along.
- Brock and I had a fight about the difference between “butt” and “but”. If you are caught saying a bad word in our house, you get put in time-out. Or chastised from Brock. I was trying to explain something to him and used the word “but”. Before I could even finish my sentence, he said, “Mom, you no say “butt”. You want a time-out?!” After explaining the difference between “but” & “butt” a million times, I took the time-out.
- Brock called me a whale this weekend. Not in reference to the size of my ass, just because it thought it was a funny word.
- Adrianna covered me in slobbery/snotty kisses all weekend. Also? She loves to bite my neck. I think she absorbed too much while I was breastfeeding and reading Twilight.