Mom? Where are the donuts?
Some days they make me want to scream. Those are the days that my expectations are a little high. For instance, I assume that my 7-year old son would know that he needs to brush his teeth before school, or he needs to place his dirty clothes in his hamper, not next to it. Of course, all these things are simply preparing him for manhood. One thing is certain, he will be able to sufficiently annoy his future wife.
Listen to me Belle, I know what I'm talking about. I'm seven, ya know.
My four year old still can not remember the process of using the toilet. Flushing is always a mystery. She skips right over the flushing part, but washes her hands religiously. So, maybe I'm getting bits and pieces of it right. They share with others, but not with each other. They listen to other adults, but when it comes to me and daddy they tend to use selective hearing. I don't think we're as scary. Probably because they've heard us fart. For some reason our kids feel they can relate to people better if they know they have the same bodily functions. A good solid burp in front of my son and you've got a friend for life.
In all seriousness, some days it hits me like a flippin jolt of electric shock, I'm a mom. I am 100% responsible for human beings. Once you get passed the diaper changing, and breast feeding, you realize that parenting is just so much more than cuddling in front of cartoons on a rainy day or cleaning up chunky puke when they're sick. It is so much more than teaching them basic hygiene and washing their dirty clothes. The so much more is the part I'm trying desperately not to get wrong.