I love my kids. I love the way they smile, how they say "thank you" when I give them their dinner, and their kisses and hugs. My kids are awesome. That said, I occasionally wish they had volume control and were born knowing how to pick up after themselves.
Seriously, some days I think a tornado has passed through my home leaving small toys and discarded socks in it's wake. There is a certain amount of chaos that is the norm in a big family (or at least ours), and some days it's better than others.
Since Reagan has decided to come home and be homeschooled again, I now have a partner. Someone to help me with the daily housework, and make it go faster. Which will be important, since I have a pretty full curriculum planned for him. But I wonder if I'll ever feel like I'm not on Storm Watch, waiting for the next damage report. And I have good kids. I wonder how it would feel if any of my kids were intentionally destructive.
One day the house will be empty. The milk will be where I left it, I won't step on tiny race cars, and I won't smell another diaper. And maybe then, I will miss La Tormenta de Basso. But today, it sounds pretty darn nice. Of course, Quinn's tiny little chocolaty face smiling up at me seems pretty nice, too. So, I guess I'll take the Storm, if it means I get to have them with me every day.