I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Today is my wedding anniversary.
This is a big year for Mom and Buried and me. Not necessarily because the eighth anniversary is a milestone, or that our eleventh year together is a milestone. No, it’s a big year because after surviving the newborn/baby/toddler gauntlet, we are about to re-enter the arena.
Something tells me that, come January, when we’re officially “married with children,” we’ll need to be more united than ever.
Kids are crafty.
They learn at an early age how to manipulate you to get what they want. And there are few things kids want more than sleeping in your bed. Or not sleeping at all. They have a variety of tactics for making it happen.
Let me count the ways…
Nothing is more joyous than getting your kids to bed for the night.
Unfortunately, when their bedtime routine is finally completed, you’re usually too spent to take advantage.
I spend a lot of time making HILARIOUS lists comparing things.
Comparing the ways parenting is similar to different, HILARIOUSLY unexpected things, like being in jail, or like being bullied, or like writing lists about how parenting is similar to different, HILARIOUSLY unexpected things.
I even write HILARIOUS lists comparing the ways kids are similar to different, HILARIOUSLY unexpected things, like supervillains, and politicians.
But the pure, unadulterated, non-HILARIOUS truth is that parenting is a unique endeavor, and that kids are actually quite different from most things, not similar to them. Because they are singular, alien beings that don’t behave the same way as we do.
The perfect example of this? Bedtime.
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