I think most people take the assumption that I don't like my kids. I mean, I complain about them. A lot. And generally, if you think along the lines of logic, that surely equates to dislike. Right?
Uh, no. I adore them. Love them in an eternal kind of way actually. I have stood in lines, starred down school administrators and scoured books and doctors for solutions. As far as logic goes, that's a mother's love that can't be duplicated.
So, it's funny to me that women who complain about their kids are categorized as women who don't like their kids. That's so far from the truth. We're just women who are real. And we give voice to the realness. No sugarcoating.
Because real is funny and heart-wrenching and crazy, all at the same time.
My girl is turning 18 soon and starting her senior year. That's as real as it gets. No complaining here. Just thinking about it hurts my heart. Time is spilling over the edges so fast, I can't move quickly enough to grab it.
But still, she's a teenager. And teenagers are irritating. And weird. When we were at Disneyland, this girl totally coughed up something nasty from her throat and then spit it all into a napkin. The Husband looked right and me and said, "She is so never getting married." It was a fist bump moment. We made a Super Spouse mental pact that we're in this together, because clearly these kids will live with us forever.
Do you remember that I had stacks of teenagers hanging at my house last week? You know, because the-beautiful-best-friend-from-out-of-town was here? You'll never believe what my sister and I did. Well, it probably won't really surprise you, because, you know, it's us.
My sister sang our college (Go Cougs!) fight song and I clapped and cheered the whole way through. For legit. We stood in my kitchen and performed for the teenagers. Oh, and then I got my sister to do her car alarm impression. There is nothing, I mean nothing, more awesome than that. We're just keepin' it real. Sometimes love looks a whole lot like a bunch of crazy.
So, my friends, feel free to complain and love all at the same time. Truth is, they're pretty much packaged together. Real comes as a complicated bundle. Live it like you mean it. And sing your college fight song along the way. Just to keep it classy.