Me: with double stroller, 2 babies inside.
Me: with one crying 3 year old who "can't walk", and is cold but "can't wear the coat because it's too itchy."
Me: with 2 grade two kiddos lagging along behind.
Me: being greeted by strangers with an odd look and comments such as "You've got YOUR hands full." (aka, look at the town pump, har, har)
"Yes I do, and they aren't ALL mine, thank you very much" (is what I'd like to say, but instead I heave a heavy sigh: "You're telling me.")
I drop the kids off at school and promptly u-turn to go back home. Mr. 3 year old "can't walk". Nope, but he sure can RUN on down the road, screaming and crying that he can't walk. It was already a bad morning, but it got worse when some onlookers stopped in their tracks and look at me funny, "Is he okay?" Is HE okay? IS HE OKAY?? Are YOU okay would be the most APPROPRIATE question!! No, I am not chasing this young boy down the road with a double stroller full of babies with the intent of abducting and hurting him. Hurting him, maybe (in my mind), but yes he is mine, and he is my trouble maker. "HE'S MY TROUBLE CHILD," I yell as I jog down the road at 8:30 in the morning chasing after my son. What do you do? What do you do?? You go home and cry. That's what you do. Or at least what I did.
My sweet, sweet little man, all chalk full of evil on some days. Then tonight I'm putting him to bed and very sweetly he asks, "Mommy, do you love me? Because I LOVE you!!"
My Christmas wish? My little boy's personality would even out a little and FAST. I'm tired of trying to raise a little Jekyll and Hyde.
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