No Idea What to Call This One

You ever have those days where you get to the end of the day and you feel like you are the worst parent out there? Or is that pretty much every day when you look back on how you shoulda not yelled, you shoulda hugged more, shoulda told your kids you loved them more and probably shoulda acted a little less like a fish wife? Yeah. Those days. And then night comes and you put your kids in bed and one kid says, "You're nice mom!" And you say, "I am?!" And she says, "Yeah, 'cause when you spilled the hot dog juice on my shirt you said sorry!" And you think, "Oh! THAT'S all it takes to be considered nice?" Then you put the other kid in bed and she hugs you so tight around the neck that you feel her quivering 'cause she's expending every single ounce of strength she possesses in her small body to give you the BEST hug and you feel a little bit better about how the day went after all.

Or you just for some reason are feeling crabby about nothing and everything and you're about ready to scream because you're mad and you don't know why so it's making you mad and then you feel a huge bump on your back as you're kneeling down in front of the cupboard and just as you're ready to cut loose with some loud noises, some small arms come around you and a small voice says, "I LUB YEW MOMMY!!!!!!" And you say to yourself, "WHY would you?!" So you decide to forget cleaning for a few minutes and read to your kids so they stop looking at you like you're gonna blow steam every time you walk past them.

Then the other girl stands there staring at you for the longest time when you're trying to concentrate on something 'important' and you're about ready to say, "WHY are you STARING at me?" when she says, "I like you mommy!" And somehow, at that moment, 'I like you' sounds even better than hearing 'I Love You' because it may be true that you'll always love your mom, but sometimes you just don't like her and you know that she knows that and she still likes you just the way you are and you feel happy.

Your husband leaves after 12 hours at home and you feel a little lonely as you head to bed, but you are under STRICT orders to bring the eldest girl to bed with you when you go, so you scoot the middle child to the middle of the bed and haul the old one in from her room so they can both kick you in the head while you sleep, and as you're bringing her into your room she starts muttering to you. You can't quite understand what she's saying so you bend your head closer and say, "What did you say?" about 37 times. She repeats herself, but it's still slurred and way to quiet for you to hear; all you can make out is, "Yours arms. You have yours arm." And she keeps repeating that first half of the sentence and slurring and mumbling the last part so you finally say, "Do you even know what you're talking about??" as you try to keep from laughing out loud and waking up the other two girls. And then she opens her eyes and in a loud clear voice she firmly says, "NOPE!!" as she rolls over, drapes her leg over her sister's head and starts snoring in harmony with her sister and the dog and the smallest girl who is squeaking out the rhythm through her half stuffed nose. So you make up your mind that you're gonna write about this while you have the chance.

And then you remember back 6 years ago, how you lay awake for many, many nights wondering how in the WORLD people actually SLEEP when their husband snores, and then you start to laugh because you're remembering the night that the oldest girl was about two weeks old and how you came to bed after brushing your teeth, lay down and started to relax when you realized you were being serenaded. Hubby snoring to beat the band and wake the neighbors next to you on one side, baby in the bassinet on the other side of you snoring shrilly and the fat hound dog in the closet snoring alto. The only thing missing is the soprano which you suddenly supply when you start laughing like a hyena and snorting and gasping and wheezing while you hope that you don't wake any of the crazies because they might accidentally have YOU committed instead of the actual guilty parties.

That's when you stop writing and actually go to bed instead of waxing eloquent about it, because there's nothing you'd like less than to be able to sleep in quietness with nobody to kick you in the head or put a soggy wet diaper in your face or a hubby who forgot to put deodorant on hugging you around the neck when he rolls over in his sleep. Because if you could sleep in that kind of undisturbed silence it would be the farthest thing possible from that which people who don't know any better call "Peace & Quiet" and you'd even miss the BO.