I couldn't decide at first how to title this one, considering that I came at it from the angle of "Things that make me happy" and most of them had to do with my kids, so I made it into my Mother's Day blog and I think it really hits the spot. This coming Sunday, moms will wake up to breakfast in bed (that they will eventually have to clean up), bottles of perfume (that have a very good chance of being spilled on the carpet), beautiful earrings (that will inadvertently be yanked out as she wrestles an unwilling toddler into his car seat), and an entire day that is "all about Mom." Who wouldn't want that? Apparently, a lot of folks.
A recent study looked at whether people WITH children or people WITHOUT children were happier. Sorry, I didn't get the results--my mind was stuck on the statement people without children; are there really grown adults out there with diplomas, mortgages, and spouses who don't have children? Interesting. . .
No high chairs clogging up the kitchen?
No potty chairs in the bathroom to trip over?
No sippy cups with days (weeks?) old milk hiding in the sofa cushions?
No PTO meetings to attend?
No lost sunglasses, remote controls, or cell phones that doubled as baby rattles in a pinch?
No science fair projects at the last minute? No parent-teacher conferences every quarter? agendas to sign daily?
No Legos to step on in bare feet?
No taking baths with mini sailboats and tiny dinosaurs tickling my nether regions? No baseball practices to sit through on rainy summer afternoons?
No football games on icy cold, windy Saturday mornings?
No jerseys, cleats, hats, gloves, mouthpieces to find as we are in the car, engine running?
Really?
No one to help you crack the eggs on Sunday mornings or stir the pancake batter, chair pulled up close to the counter?
No one to say, "I love you, Princess" as I leave his room for the night?
No one to exceed on all areas of the CRCT state test?
No one to cheer for as he hits a doozy of a line drive right past the shortstop's head?
No one to ask me how old I was when Kennedy was shot?
No kindergartner to read signs and billboards and cardboard books for the first time, giddier than me even in his own progress?
No constant reminder of how handsome his daddy's blue eyes are?
No treasure chest full of premature onesies, favorite blankies, and "coming home" outfits?
I'll have to check on the results of that survey, but I'm confident in my answer. I am a happier gal with messy bathrooms, a disaster of a mini-van, a backyard full of all things Tonka, and a full heart (and home) every night.
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