Wednesday, August 31, 2011

I think I'm starting to understand my children. Gasp!

I often wonder what goes through my chidren's minds when I am talking to them.  I remember a "Far Side" cartoon where the dog only recognizes her name in a slew of reprimands from her owner, and lately, I have started to believe I can identify that expression in my chidren's faces.  

In my professional/previous life, I dealt with possibly thousands of people from all over the world, all with different personalities and bringing unique flavors into my life.  At one point in time, I lectured to 500 freshmen in a semester, once without a microphone.  I could walk into a room, and command the attention and silence of a full auditorium.  This is not a boast, but a simple fact.  But never in my life did I dream that I would utter any of the following:
"Please do not step on your sister's head."
"I don't care that he hit you in the head with a bat.  It is NOT okay to throw him to the ground."
"If you do not stop screaming, I will put you into the corner until Mardi Gras."
"No, we do not eat rubber bands, silly bands, or erasers."
"Whatever it is that you are thinking, don't."

And today, I almost heard my two year-old son say, after looking me square in the eye because I forbade him to roll them at me "Look woman, I will pretend to hear you because that is the only way to get you off of my back.  But make no mistake.  Someday, vengeance will be mine".  I'm not sure what form that vengeance will take, but I have come to conclude that I will be spending the rest of my life sleeping with one eye open.

But you know what? I would not change it for the world. Because although I have been sleep-deprived for over six years, I feel I have been more acutely aware of my many blessings. And although I sound like a complete lunatic to many passersby at the store, I know in my heart that I am not alone amongst so many other parents. And although these little blessings appear to want to do me in, I will never forget to be grateful for them coming into our lives.