Kairos Moments

I discovered another blog yesterday, via a Huffington Post article that a mom I know posted.  "Don't Carpe Diem" it said.  Don't carpe diem?  This is for moms?  So don't carpe diem a parenting moment?  I have several I'd like to not sieze.  There are many I'd like to brush under the rug or into a corner in the closet so that no one ever finds out about them.  Maybe those are the skeletons in my closet, since I've lived a fairly mundane and safe life.  Look into the darkest recesses of my life, and you'll find all the parenting moments I chose to pretend never existed.  Like, oh say the last six years.

Kidding. 

It hasn't been that bad.  There have surely been good moments.  But, for the most part, if I'm being honest, if I'm telling my deep secrets, if you promise not to call Children's Protective Services on me (I work with some of them, and they're on my speed dial, so just try it), if we're going to shed light in the corners of my closets and lift up all the rugs in my house, if you promise not to tell anyone . . .

I really don't like parenting toddlers.  Or first graders, apparently.

Back when I was simply babysitting, I discovered that I really don't like 4 year olds.  I thought it would change when I actually had a real attachment to the child, but then my nieces hit four.  Didn't like them either.  Well, maybe it will change when they were birthed by me and call me mom.  Nope.  Even worse.  Now that my youngest has been wholly consumed by the terrible twos, I've discovered that the truth is all these 2-6 years are something I could do without.

I don't like cutting up food.  I don't like getting up from my computer or my book or my moment to breathe or my moment to sit on the toilet peeing allbymyselfforjustasecondplease in order to get a snack or find a toy or stop another fight or get a drink or get another snack or put the skirt on your mini Cinderella or find your Littlest Pet Shop purse.  (Could toys possibly be bigger, please?  Maybe all toys could be like those magical Snap 'N' Style dolls that even my two year old can maneuver.)  I don't like wiping butts either.  And I don't like all that whining.  I don't mind zipping up coats and tying shoes, but I'll be honest and say that it gets a bit annoying when they're dancing around like a pretty, pretty princess fairies while I'm doing it. 

But I'll also be honest about something else.  They really are a pretty, pretty princess fairies.  They are my joy.  They are my hope that there are bright spots in the future.  They are my I love you.  Because, even in the middle of my wishing for a second to myself prior to passing out to the world at 10:30 p.m. (hopefully in my bed and not my onesecondtomyselfonthetoilet), even in the middle of my fear that I won't actually like any stage of parenting and my kids will grow up to hate me for it, I have another secret:

I love parenting toddlers.  And I love parenting first graders, apparently.

It's hard, hard work.  I know that middle schoolers and tweens and teens will also be hard, hard work.  Or a challenge.  But I'm excited to get there.  So I hope that my kids forgive me for speeding us through a few of the rough patches, for losing my temper when my second in the bathroom is interrupted by a third little voice whining "Can you get me a piece of candy?" (Really?  From the bathroom?  Let me know how that goes.), for listening to Maroon 5 in the van when all they want is "Silly Songs!!!!!" (For. The. Fifteenth. Time...Today.).  I hope that we share a mutual respect and love and admiration when they grow up and move out and I realize that these years went too fast and wish I had less time to myself and wonder why the juice boxes and Fruit Nuggets start lasting longer than two days.  I hope I don't screw them up too much.  And I hope, that like Glennon says, I don't forget to notice the Kairos Moments.  I can seize those.

Yesterday's moments:
* Reading "Little House in the Big Woods" with Ellie
* Addie walking around the kitchen with her baby on her shoulders while I was making dinner
* Ellie's stunningly gorgeous face after she's been outside playing in the cold
* Megan's big blue eyes peeking at me from under a blanket
* Addie asking where the seat is at the table for her baby and then remembering that she only drinks milk
* Megan exclaming, "Oh my chinny-chin-chins!" when all the marbles from the marble run fell off the table in the dining room

It was such a good day.