I'm trying to keep my business, my triplets, and my waistline under control. I excel at one of those, fail at another one of those, and one is a work in progress. Which is which is day dependant.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

So freakin' annoying!

My kids are annoying the shit out of me at the moment. Thing is, they aren't really doing anything other than being their usual rambunctious, energetic, noisy and fun selves. For some reason, though, I'm finding that they are seriously getting on my last nerve. In a way it's unfair on them, because they aren't doing anything to deserve my "will you PLEASE stop that?" voice and my "you've got exactly ten seconds to quit it!" hollow threats. They're just, well, being kids. Happy kids, no less.

Sometimes being a parent kinda sucks. I actually admitted this out loud recently, when I told my snester that on some days, I just want to stay in bed and pretend I'm single and childless. I don't want to get up and be the responsible one. I don't want to be the person who makes the decisions, who gets everyone organized, who answers thousands of questions a day, who picks up yet another Barbie stiletto from the floor. I don't want to be the one wondering if letting my girls play with Barbie stilettos is somehow giving them body image issues. I don't want to be the one who is all rah-rah-yay-you-aren't-you-clever all day long. I want my kids to be able to read without having to listen to a reader every single night. (A reader = beginning reading book they bring home from school every day, for practice purposes.) The guilts set in when I find myself wishing I'd just wake up one day and they would be able to read, do math equations and just be able to, you know, DO STUFF without my having to put in the work to get them there. Of course, there are times I find myself wishing time would just slow down, and that I could relish every second of their childhood. At the moment, though, I'm thinking, "Seriously, how bleeding hard is it to actually TRY and sound out that word?" and planning in my head the massive world tour DH and I will take when the kids hit 18 years old and can look after themselves, thanks very much.

I suspect my irritation with them has nothing to do with them per se, and it's more about my own feeling of being overwhelmed at all the other things happening in my life. Then again, it could just be the simple fact that sometimes, kids are annoying. It's the one universal fact no mother will ever admit to - sometimes, your own kids really give you the shits.

It's annoying when they walk in on you in the toilet ten minutes after you had the 'importance of privacy' discussion. Annoying when they need to know every last detail of the conversation you're in the midst of, or the conversation you just finished on the phone. Annoying when they insist on not getting dressed unless you find the *exact* blue sock they want, in a drawer full of blue socks. Annoying when they believe you have both the money and time to buy them what they want tomorrow after school. Annoying when they drop food on the floor and ignore it until they step in it later and announce that it's gross, and no way are they cleaning it up. Annoying when they argue about taking a bath, even though they've taken one every other day for the last six years. Annoying when you're late to school already, and that's when they decide they don't have their sweater/toy/lunchbox/thing you can't find. Annoying when they are so exhausted they can barely hold their heads up, but once you send them to bed they have enough energy to light all of France for a week. Enough energy, it seems, to annoy the living shit out of each other. Which requires your intervention, which in itself is annoying because you know that they will feel so much better if they just fall asleep and get some rest. Annoying because one day they like cucumber in their lunch, and the next they hate cucumber and "don't ever give it to me again Mummy!"

Harumpf. Kids are annoying little boogers. Cute and lovable, but bloody annoying sometimes.

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