Desperate Housewife

I am going insane.

Going? Who am I kidding. I've done gone. "Going" suggests traveling along at a reasonable speed and noticing exit signs on the highway. I've already taken the exit, bought a house, and had all my subscriptions forwarded.

I love my children. Really, I do. They are great little people.

They are great little people.

I've had to repeat that to myself lately.

So, yeah, they're great. But they're evil geniuses. They're tiny, plotting, psychological monsters who have my demise on their horizon. Sorta like gremlins. Yes, my kids are totally gremlins right now.

I know, I know. I'll miss this time in my life someday. Enjoy them while they're little. I'll never get these days back.

Blah, blah, blah.

Can I just say, I hate when people tell me that almost as much as I hate loading my dishwasher. I do not feel bad for saying that I'm excited to see my kids grow up and hopefully become functioning members of society (or at least be able to keep pants on throughout the day). Do I think they're cute now? Sure. Sometimes. When I'm not crouched in the fetal position under my bed.

But here are a few things I will not miss about my kids being little:

1. Poop.

2. The complete lack of privacy or personal space.

3. Really lame TV shows.

4. Cribs, exersaucers, car seats, strollers, and all the other huge things taking up space in my house and van.

5. Random things smelling like ketchup or pee.

6. Being solely responsible for locating and installing everyone's shoes, socks, coats, hats, clip on Buzz Lightyear flashlights, etc.

7. Did I mention poop?

8. Constant interruption.

9. Whining (I know this doesn't necessarily stop as they age, but hopefully it will be lower pitched and there will be less wailing on the floor and throwing things.)

10. Nothing staying clean for more than 47 seconds.

11. Teething.

12. How exhausting it is to go anywhere.

13. Legos. Everywhere.

14. Interrupted sleep.

15. Wanting to cry because I haven't been out of my house for five days, or put on pants with a real waistband, or worn makeup, or had a conversation that didn't begin with "Can I..."

There are things I will definitely miss. Chubby cheeks. Mispronounced words. Hearing "I love you" thirty times a day. Giggles. The excitement in their eyes at birthdays and holidays.

And I have to believe these are the things that the older people are talking about when they say "You'll miss it someday." Because something doesn't seem right about missing wiping people's bottoms or refereeing noisy wrestling matches.

Someday, Seth and I will go out for a romantic evening on a whim, without having to line up childcare and then cut the evening short because we don't want said childcare to be glancing at the clock thinking "Hurry up already, your kids are monsters." Someday, I'll be able to go to the bathroom without anyone sitting outside the door crying or asking me to peel their orange. Someday, I'll sleep eight hours. In a row.

And I'm kinda looking forward to seeing how our babies slowly morph into cool people we like hanging out with. Isn't the point of parenthood to grow and nurture a child into an adult?

Or at least individuals we're comfortable taking in public?