Wet Oatmeal Kisses

Its spring break and in order to keep the kids entertained we went to the Fort Worth Zoo today along with every other person in the entire Dallas/Fort Worth area. It was a literal and figurative zoo. The news actually showed up to document the madness. I really hate crowds. The kids had fun though, and I got to be with friends, so I'm not complaining. When I finally made it out of there and got home my poor neighbor comes to my door frantic. Her house is flooding and she has no idea what to do. I figured out how to turn the water off after only one call to my husband who is out of town by the time the fire trucks showed up. Now my three year old was last seen naked and wondering around upstairs, and I don't even care. So it was a hectic and tiring day. It was one of those days that you just survive. Well I have too many of those, so I wanted to post one of my favorite things that helps me remember that life isn't about surviving, but enjoying. People keep telling me that these years will fly by. I don't believe it. It has been said, "it'll kill you how fast kids grow up, but it'll kill you sooner if they didn't." That's how I feel most days. So here is a little reminder of what's inevitable. We need to enjoy this madness while we can.

Its by Erma Bombeck.

A young mother writes: "I know you've written before about the empty-nest syndrome -- that lonely period after the children are grown and gone. Right now, I'm up to my eyeballs in laundry and muddy boots. The baby is teething; the boys are fighting. My husband just called and said to eat without him, and I fell off my diet. Lay it on me again, will you.''

OK. One of these days you'll explode and shout to the kids, "Why don't you grow up and act your age?"
...and they will.

OR:

"You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do. And don't slam the door!"
...and they don't.

You'll straighten up the boys' bedroom neat and tidy -- bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on the shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you'll say out loud, "Now I want it to stay this way.''
...and it will.

You'll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you'll say, "Now, there's a meal for company.''
...and you'll eat it alone.

You'll say: "I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No demolition crews. Silence! Do you hear?''
...and you'll have it.

No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghtetti.
No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms.
No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps.
No more clothespins under the sofa.
No more playpens to arrange a room around.
No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent
No more sand on the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathrooms.
No more iron-on-patches, wet, knotted shoestrings, tight boots, or rubber bands for ponytails.
Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it.
No baby sitter for New Year's Eve.
Washing only once a week.
Seeing a steak that isn't ground.
Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No PTA meetings.
No car pools.
No blaring radios.
No one washing her hair at 11 o'clock at night.
Having your own roll of Scotch tape.
Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste.
No more sloppy oatmeal kisses.
No more tooth fairy.
No giggles in the dark.
No knees to heal, no responsibility.

Only a voice crying, "Why don't you grow up?'' and the silence echoing,
"I did."

So just when you think you can't take it anymore, try to remember that it won't last forever and there will be days that you'll wish you could have it all back.