My post on the things I miss since becoming a parent was promoted on AOL this weekend, and I was shocked to see that a substantial minority of the commenters were derisive and angry, yes, angry that I had chosen to complain about those things I missed.
This is an actual comment: "You guys are LOSERS! Your kids are blessings! Enjoy them now, cause this is only a season of your long life. Stop being so selfish. I say this because I have three of my own. And I feel blessed rather than burdened." Somehow, some of my commenters seemed to be saying, life with children should either be perfect - or I'm a selfish, whining LOSER.
I was getting 20 or 30 comments an hour and it was starting to wear on me, the exclamation points, the sad stories ("I miss my little boy, who is now with God..."), the capitalizations, the judgment. Sometimes I laugh at all the comments, sometimes I barely read them, and sometimes - like today - it got to me, a little bit.
I'm here to say that life with kids, it's not perfect. I don't love them every instant. I don't want to cuddle with the always. I definitely don't look at myself every instant and say, "oh I am so blessed!" I love them. I treasure them. Sometimes I wish to lick them back when they lick me (ok, those times are rare). But other times? I wish that Truman would stop hanging on my leg, pulling my pants down around my hips while I cook, and that Everett would stop talking 1/4 inch from my face and kissing me over and over and over again to get my attention, and that I could just leave them for a sec while I ran to the store. Or just ran.
I love my life. I am totally blessed. My children are truly amazing, adorable, smart, funny, full of an inimitable spirit that brings tears to my eyes. But it's not perfect. You want perfect? Try Walgreens. Evidently they sell it there.