It used be a club in Orlando that I would go to on Wednesdays and Friday nights to dance.
Now it is just this place I spend so much time I think I might need to start getting my mail here. These kids.
I love them so hard it hurts.
It was sobering to read Madee's 8 month post the other day. All the sensitivity and sweetness and newness of being a mother.
Because now I sound like Roseanne.
These kids yell and scream so much. They even do it when they are happy. They do it so much I can only do it back.
It is my self defense and it just makes everything worse. I mean, I am the only one here with the brains yet to figure out that screaming and yelling is miserable for EVERYBODY. That it is disturbing to others. But I can't even tell you the last time I got more than 2 hours straight of sleep, much less had a full tank of patience.
My guilt tank is over-spilling lately, though.
I think I can blame it all on Eden. That helpless little baby who would love nothing more than to help herself instead of screaming for the things she wishes she had words for.
But I know it is my fault, because I remember going through this with Madee. I remember thinking she was trying to kill me. I remember thinking she was ruining my life.
Dude. Moms are just people. I don't think you can realize that until you have kids and by then you have already blamed everything on your own mother so I guess that sentiment can get lost on her, but seriously any and every mother just wants you to CUT HER A BREAK!
My point is, kids, my kids, if you are reading this, I admit: we had some rough days when you were really little, and it was probably traumatic for all of us, but you were meaner to me than I was to you, and since you guys "don't know any better" I sometimes seemed like the bad guy.
I know we will look back on this and laugh someday. And that day will be when you have kids.
Only you will be laughing to keep from crying like I am now, and I will be laughing at the irony of life, the full circle that is our existence, and the slight dementia setting in from being old.
I love you guys.
But I will delight a little in your future perceived misery when things seem like they are knuckleheaded turrible, but really they are actually just not funny (to you) yet.
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