I am grateful. I have four, beautiful, healthy, fairly happy but headstrong children. Raising them up, teaching them right from wrong and spending all my time with them can be rewarding. I love them more than anything and I chose this life, but here's the thing: it's hard.
My kids are having trouble asking for things without whining. And with their whiney wishes there's a negative comment that follows or an indignant request, like it's my fault they're starving and I should bring them something, which they will inevitably find fault with, on a silver platter.
A text comes through on my phone while I'm putting laundry away: I just saw one of your children running (down the) street naked. I responded to the text: Sounds about right. Kids are a wild species. As parents, it's hard to know how to tame them and what to let slide.
The kids had been enjoying their new trampoline for weeks when the giggling shouts of invitation called my name. It all came back to me like I was 13 and my teenage self thought "I'll try a flip" and I started getting my bounce on because you need a lot of force to flip forward and stick it. Apparently, I got too much force.