Or something better than sliced cheese on crackers and cheesecake.
But this job, like any other, comes with a few frustrations.
For example, the communication between home and school is unnecessarily complicated. I have signed permission slips that sit in Ciaran's backpack for weeks. I have never gotten field trip notices for Bridget. How hard is it to bring things home and then take them back to school?
Really hard, I guess.
Then there are the six holes in the drywall in the playroom. The first one I understood. I mean, what is anyone to do when a rocking horse goes on a rampage?
But the others? Why? What happened? How can kids be so destructive without even trying?
Word to the wise, by the way, don't have four little boys in six years. But if you do, bolt down everything possible, create a savings account for home repairs, and never let anyone out of your sight. It might help. Maybe.
And of course, nothing would make me happier than seeing my children really listening to each other and getting along. I keep telling myself that the time I spend explaining to them what another is trying to say, is an investment in their interpersonal skills, and my future sanity.
I don't know why children insist on assuming that someone else is hurting their feelings on purpose. They're all new at this whole tact thing. Hurt feelings are almost always accidental, and the benefit of the doubt is a beautiful thing that friends and family will be grateful for. Or, you know, me. I'd be grateful.
These are the days when I have to remind myself that my patience is an investment in our future. And the possibility of a really posh retirement home one day.
Eight Is Enough, The Brady Bunch, and 7th Heaven were not really honest about what it's like to raise a big family. Granted I probably shouldn't have learned about parenting from TV. Even if I would like to be Lorelei Gilmore when I grow up.
It's still my favorite job though, and worth every gray hair I haven't gotten yet, but have certainly earned.
Maybe if I have some cheese and a nice dream about some cheesecake, I'll be all psyched to do it again tomorrow. After all, the hug perks alone are worth all the frustration.
My kids like to say that I never run out of hugs. That I carry an endless supply. But I get my supply from them. My hug perks are in my contract. I think I might need to negotiate a raise, though.
I might want to be Lorelei Gilmore, but I'm probably closer to Mrs. Weasley. So, help a frazzled mom out. Click the banner below and vote for me. I really appreciate it.