I complain about my kids.
I bitch about them all the time.
I talk about how they're exhausting, or behaving poorly, or won't eat anything that isn't processed.
I sometimes talk about them as if I might be better off without them.
I daydream from time to time about how easy and carefree the days were when they weren't around.
The truth is, though, that I would be nothing without them.
I would be an entirely different person and my heart would ache in a desperate way, for them.
For every beautiful, memory making moment, there is one or five or one hundred moments of exhaustion, and desperation and sometimes crying or shouting.
Just today we had to leave Costco, in a hurry because Ellie was screaming that she wanted a pretty dress.
SCREAMING.
Over. And over. And over.
(Apologies if you were there today. Thankfully, Costco is never busy. Except it is, and we elicited a LOT of stares. So, I'm sorry. I'm not really sorry though. Sh*t happens.)
And although in those times of stress and fried nerves, when I'm trying to just get us all to bedtime in one piece, I'm grateful.
I have three, gorgeous, healthy kids.
Three.
THREE?!?!
Three little people, that the universe decided should live at my house.
And they make me happy.
Shouldn't I make me happy?
But I did, don't you see?
We created these creatures who are growing up to be profound individuals, and they make me feel like I have a fierce and intense purpose.
When I hear or read about families who are struggling to have babies, or where heinous things have happened to little kids, my entire being feels raw, and I can feel my heart, ache.
And I want to immediately hug my littles.
I want to squeeze them and kiss them and tell them I love them, because that same universe doesn't guarantee they will be here tomorrow.
In all the moments where I think my kids are awful, misbehaving tyrants, I am still eternally blessed to have them.
This weekend, my Dad and I went to Disneyland to run the Avengers Infinity Gauntlet Challenge.
My Mom came to cheer for us. She's almost always there!
(Best parents ever. I don't even need to defend the title. They just, are!)
We had a very quick but adventure packed trip.
I went to Disneyland and didn't bring my kids.
It was peaceful, and relaxing and we did whatever we pleased at whatever pace we chose.
But I missed my kiddos like crazy.
I started to think about them during the race.
My chest got tight and I had to focus very hard on not breaking into an ugly, sobbing bawl-fest, where, I'm certain, hyperventilation would have occurred.
I do almost everything for them. With them in mind.
I do loads of things just for me, but I can't go a day without thinking about them, and what I can do for them.
As I sit here, I type with one hand because my boy wanted some lap time.
I always have time for that.
(I had to take a break to play with the little trouble maker. He demands undivided attention!)
I'm planning to write about our Coast to Coast challenge because it truly was a once in a lifetime adventure and we honestly do make some fantastic memories, but after being away from the herd for a few days, I was missing them so very much and couldn't wait to get home to smother them with smooches and bear hugs.
Even when they're pitching a friggin' fit in Costco!
