A Lot Tougher, A Lot More Relaxed

Looking back on my years before children, I have to have a good chuckle at myself.  I was pretty darned serious.  I mean - seriously serious.  Every thing in life seemed to need uninhibited attention to detail.  Our house was cleaned every weekend.   I put 200%  into everything I did at work and had little patience for errors (sorry ladies).  Finances in order, check, yard tidied, check, groceries in cupboard, check, all nooks and crannies organized, check.  Okay, NOW we can go out and play.  BORING! 

Carry that into children.  I remember when Samuel had his first Hep B shot and he was only 5 days old.  As the nurse slid that needle into his little chubby thigh, I cried and cried and felt my chest swell with guilt that we are the cause of these little cries of pain.  Four years later, four kids later, one too many sets of immunizations later I took Samuel in for his kindergarten shots and I found myself saying "You'll be alright buddy.  Just think, these hurt a lot less than the actual diseases!"  WOW - did that come out of my mouth?  I should have more sympathy.  Especially for the girls.  And I think - hey sweethearts, I had at least 70 shots and 12 miserable trips to Sioux Falls to bring you into this world, we're not even yet.  I'm teasing!

I remember when Samuel first joined us.  If I had a day where he cried all afternoon, had a bit of vomit and a tantrum or two...my god...it was a HORRIBLE day.  I pondered this recently as Peter called on his way home from work and asked, "How was it today?"  My response was, "Eh, just another day."  As I then truly examined the day, I realized that I woke up to two poopy diaper blow-outs.  The up the back, over the shoulder kind.  Immediately after breakfast Ethan looked at me with the glazed eyes, I swallowed a frog cheeks and proceeded to projectile vomit curdled milk all over my living room carpet.  Samuel had a wicked tantrum because I wouldn't let him play play-doh after just vacuuming for the 50th time that week.  And all day I listened to, "Mommy, can we PUHLEASEE play play-doh?"  Ethan and Samuel had had a huge breakdown fight over who was the privileged party to put the DVD in the player.  A regular occurrence at our house.  And on and on.  And really, it was just another day in a house full of children learning their manners and coordinating play.

I've lightened up quite a bit over the years it appears.  Who cares about deadlines when all we are really worried about are whether or not the next ten minutes are rocking fun?  Consider the things I've actually had a good laugh about (often after I was down having a tantrum of my own). 

• You really can fit an entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet and it expands to astronomical proportions.  Add to that, bathrooms really do flood into the hallway after 5 or so flushes when clogged. 
• Farts and burps are truly the most hysterical things in the entire universe.  The louder the better.  But of course, one must say "excuse me."
• Who really, really cares if the fitted sheets are folded correctly or the wash cloths aren't in perfect little squares?  Samuel gets a nickel for every wash cloth he folds, and we put it away just the way he folds it because he's learning.  And it is sure fun to have help.
• Sleeping through the night experts forget that your sweet little babies teeth, have fevers, get growth spurts, require shots, and never sleep after a trip anywhere.
• Who needs the silverware in the proper place?  Spoons fit nicely in the fork slot.
• Linen closets are the best places in the world to hide.  Especially if you unload EVERY thing from the closet into the hallway first.
• Bubbles are great fun smeared on the mirror and across the island.
• Plant dirt is perfect for playing construction.
• There are even days when....wait for it...wait for it....my bed doesn't get made!

And of course the most important lesson is that bad things happen when you leave the room for five minutes and if it is quiet, you are about to be in over your head.

So dear 20-year old Sabrina - lighten up.  Dear 25-year old Sabrina - go travel some more and oh yeah, lighten up!  Dear 30-year old Sabrina - looking better - only 2.5 more years and your give a damn will be pretty much busted.  But you'll have a lot more fun.  Oh and psst...the chocolate is hidden above the pantry behind the apple juice.