You meet that special someone, fall in love and get married. Soon, you begin having visions cute little ones prancing around the house being all adorable and stuff.
Then the times has come. You’re ready. You get pregnant and you’re all aglow. You can’t wait until that beautiful ray of sunshine arrives.
Then he does. And so does a good, hearty dose of reality.
My first born was such a good, well-behaved baby. So much so that hubs and I decided pretty much right away to go for another. When Mr. A was 11 months old, I got pregnant with D-Man. All was right in the world.
My cute, well-behaved baby become a toddler. There I was, big and preggo getting ready for another baby, while my now very active little nut job was getting into all sorts of crap, jumping off things, putting God knows what into his mouth, and so on.
Nobody warned me about the toddler years!
Want to know what else nobody warned me about? I’m gonna tell you anyway:
SpongeBob. Okay, Sponge Bob isn’t SO bad. But his laugh. Oh, that laugh is enough to make a woman run screaming from her house.
Play dates. You know, the high maintenance ones where either the kid is bored, constantly hungry, rude or just generally disagreeable. Yeah, those suck. That said, I do enjoy play dates at someone else’s house. Those are awesome!
Tooth Fairy inflation. What happened here? I used to get spare change under my pillow when I lost a tooth. Now my kids are looking for dollar bills — and not singles, mind you.
Living in filth. I have two boys. They are not the cleanest creatures on the planet, particularly after playing outside. In fact, there are times (many times) when I have to prewash them before the bath. Yes, prewash – just like setting you have on your washing machine. I have to wipe them down with a wet wash cloth BEFORE putting them in the tub. Filth.
Loads and loads of laundry. Of course, when they come inside wearing the outdoors, it’s not just their bodies that are covered in dirt. It’s their clothes, too. This is why I DO NOT buy white clothes for my kids. This is why I DO do buy lots of Oxyclean.
Bizarre sleeping arrangements. Here’s how a typical non-school night might go in my house: The boys climb into bed with me and talk me into putting on Good Luck Charlie or something. Hubs is downstairs watching baseball or football or basketball, depending on the time of year. By the time he comes up, the three of us are sleeping in our bed, at which point he retreats to the guest bed. He sleeps soundly. I do not.
Hours upon hours of drive time. Don’t get me wrong. I like my car. It’s spacious and comfortable and all that good stuff. But once 3:00 hits, I spend my afternoons driving from one activity to another. It’s not just the driving that makes me crazy. It’s the actives that take place in my car, like changing uniforms, eating and arguing, which ultimately turn my nice little Honda Pilot into a disaster zone. All this while my husband gets to drive around in a quiet car that is spotless!
The noise! My home is rarely quiet. By rarely, I mean never. The sounds coming from the house may include any of the following: Sponge Bob (as discussed); them sobbing and/or screaming; me sobbing and/or screaming; bodily noises (typically in the form of a fart or a burp), followed by laughter; cries of boredom or hunger or both, etc…
The frequent need for Advil. Oh yes, kids should come with free Advil. Who knew these little beings could cause such debilitating headaches? Well, I learned the hard way.
Okay, okay, they’re not all bad. I do in fact love my kids very much. I could write a post (and I probably will sometime soon) three times as long about all the things I enjoy about being a mom. Just not today. Today, I’m in venting mode. And so today you have a post of complaints.
Did I leave anything out?
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