To counterbalance some of the sappiness of yesterday’s post about how quickly children grow and how I’m a giant mush-ball just wishing they could linger here in my arms forever as sweetly resting babies, a top ten of sorts.
A for-the-love-of-finishing-a-cup-of-coffee-before-it-is-cold list of things to look forward to (someday, someday.)
1. Grocery shopping A) without four children hanging off of one carriage and B) without having my carriage be shaped like a race car or truck or some other absurdly long and impossible to steer contraption that will only hold my child’s attention through the produce aisle (after which, they will climb off and leave me burdened with the impossible-to-steer Goliath-cart AND four children grabbing at cans of black olives and boxes of Fruity Pebbles.)
2. Eating without sharing. I know, I know. I ought to have the sort of give and share whatever you have heart that I am trying to instill in my children, but sometimes (okay, all the time) I just want to eat everything on my plate, every last lick of hummus or nibble of fruit, without a child leaning their head against my arm and staring longingly at my dish, or without hearing the words can I have one? as their fingers are already sliding a berry from my bowl.
3. Not answering the same question, a dozen different ways.
2) No, Asher, you can’t watch a show right now.
4) Because I said so.
5) Asher, I said no, and that is the end of the discussion.
6) You have already watched two shows this morning, no more shows. None. Done. All done. Turn it off. Now.
7) For the love, just come take this cup of juice and I will turn it off.
8) I said juice, not yes you can watch a show. Turn it off. Now. Seriously. Don’t make me count.
4. Going for long walks, without pausing after every twenty paces for someone to tie their shoe, or cries over a skinned knee, or pauses to inspect a species of flower that looks mysterious, but is probably just a weed and does not need to be sketched in your tiny notebook, and no I don’t know where your pencil is.
5. Nights of sleep without two-year olds climbing into my bed and having fitful dreams that appear to be about cage fighting, based on the amount of grunting, kicking and punching.
6. Answering the front door (without first panicking and doing a check to make sure all legs in the house are wearing pants.)
7. Cleaning a room, walking out of it, then walking back into it and finding it STILL CLEAN.
8. Tuning out all of the mommy-debates. For real.
9. Spending most of my time with people who know how to wipe their own noses, and know to do so without me telling them that the drip is dangerously close to their upper lip. (Seriously, how do they not feel that?!)
10. Being able to get into plank position without a toddler trying to mount me like I’m a horse.
I could go on, and on.
For all of the little, amazing and sweet things I adore about my children and motherhood, there are probably just as many annoying, sticky, dripping, smelly, exhausting, uncomfortable things that I will be one day be so relieved to no longer have as part of my daily routine.
And I think that’s okay.
(And while writing this, my daughter decided to dunk a roll of toilet paper in the toilet and use it to mop the bathroom floor. So. “Being able to sit down for ten minutes and get my thoughts out without having something wet/disgusting/annoying-to-clean thing happen in the next room.” Let’s go ahead and add that to the list too.)