Let me be clear. I love my children. They are angels. Delightful in every way. I am so grateful they are in my life and that they are mine. But (and this is the really annoying thing) they are also constantly stretching me out of the selfish laziness I tend toward. Don’t get me wrong – that’s a good thing. They are giving me ample opportunities to stretch and grow and mature as a person. But, gosh darn it, don’t you ever just want to sit down with your cup of coffee and read without interruption or without having first to clear off your favourite chair of all the child-debris (an odd sock – clean? dirty? who even knows, 3 stuffed animals, 2 pieces of Lego and a book)? Don’t you ever long for the child-free days (either those in the past or those to come)? Don’t you ever want your pre-pregnancy body back (you know, the one you thought was hideous at the time until you learned how truly awful things could become)?
This blog will share my journey – my imperfect journey – of raising the perfect kids (at least they were before I came along and screwed them up. Sorry girls, the counseling is on me, I’m setting up the savings account today). I cannot say you will learn anything, or come across the perfect quote to sum up the experience of parenting, but those of you who are proficient at child-rearing can gleefully look down your nose at me and feel good about yourself and your super powers, and those of you who, like me, struggle a bit here and there can find that there is someone else in the trenches – trying to get sleep, trying not to sit in that unidentifiable wet spot, and trying to outlast the enemy – just like you.