I really love my kids more than anything in the world.
But I’ve got to be honest.
Sometimes I don’t really like them.
Like sometimes I dread the moment I hear them tiptoeing down the stairs in the morning, and as soon as they step foot on the first floor, the countdown to bedtime begins.
I am going through this right now with Number 7.
And I’m pretty sure she’s trying to kill me.
When I started writing this blog, Number 4 was 5 years old.
She was a handful.
She gave me a lot of stuff to write about.
There were lots and lots and lots of other times.
I was sure Number 4 was trying to kill me, too.
But compared to Number 7, Number 4 was an amateur.
She was like the PSAT’s.
She was just preparing me for Number 7.
Number 7 is wearing me down.
And she’s impervious.
She’s like Superman.
I haven’t been able to figure out her kryptonite.
The five-year-old gives me a run for my money, but I’ve got five-year-old kryptonite.
The Wii. And the DS.
The five-year-old will get his shit together for the electronics.
The six-year-old will stop screwing around when her Barbies are on the line or when she might not be able to swim with her friends during the big kids’ swim practice.
But the three-year-old?
She cares about NOTHING.
She doesn’t care about electronics or TV or Barbies or swim practice or anything.
A couple weeks ago she was at a friend’s house, and the mom was getting rid of this little lamp.
Number 7 was kind of obsessed with it, and she asked if she could have it. The mom said yes. So we took it home.
Number 7 was all about that lamp.
Last week when she was really giving me a run for my money, I had gotten to the point where I just couldn’t take it anymore and I looked at her and I said, “I’m going to take that lamp out of your room.”
And she looked right at me and screamed, “GO AHEAD! I DON’T CAY-YUH! TAKE IT MOMMY! TAKE IT! TAKE IT! GO AHEAD MOM! TAKE IT!”
I just sat there with my mouth hanging open.
She never stops.
And I’m running out of gas.
And while I think she is super smart and very funny and incredibly athletic and highly resourceful and I admire her in all sorts of ways, well,
I also just don’t love being around her a lot of the time right now.
I know this phase will pass.
I know, one day, like when she is a teenager, I will look back on these days and possibly think they were easier.
But right now?
Well, right now, I’m really just glad that she’s sound asleep.