Wednesday, June 6, 2007


There are days that are just like what you think parenting should be. Today was Jack's last day of school, and a bunch of parents brought picnic lunches and we all sat out on the playground and ate, played, and snuggled—mostly with our own kids, not with each other.

There was, to my knowledge, not a single fight among the kids. None of my kids whined at me. No one threw a tantrum. I got to talk to my adult friends. Quinn spent a good hour jabbering away while eating his lunch and sitting on my lap. Sam ran around with his friends. Jack lay down on our blanket with his head on my leg while I stroked his newly buzz cut head. I was able to shower them with kisses and bask in the love I have for them.

I have a lot of days where I am at the end of my rope. When the kids act in a way I don't like and I end up yelling at them. Or even when we do something perfectly nice that gets tarnished when they balk at leaving and yell at me. To be perfectly honest, I spend a lot of time bitching about my kids.

But sometimes I get an hour or two that is easy, fun, and tender. We have more good times than bad, and they hear more good things than exasperated things, but I almost always feel like the harried mother of three rambunctious kids under six.

Today, for a brief window of time, I got to feel like the perfect mother of three perfect kids under six.

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