One of the downsides of Facebook is that sometimes I feel it only exists to make me feel bad about myself. I see these posts of people saying things like "I'm so blessed, (insert random kid's name here) is just a joy, he/she is so wonderful, they said the sweetest things in their prayers last night, they are already doing algebra in kindergarten, they are doing just great in their Portuguese lessons, etc." Or, you get the "wow, just finished a 10 k after being up all night making sure every shirt in the house is laundered and now I need to go study for the bar exam." Generally, I either REALLY don't measure up or they're just flat out lying. I don't post status updates because someone would probably call CPS. "Just finished screaming my head off at my eight year old because he peed all over the bathroom floor. His excuse..."it was dark, I couldn't see what I was doing." Or how about "Is it about even if you go run 2 miles then come home and eat 4 spoonfulls of Nutella?" My status is not anything anyone wants to know about.
That being said, I have been truly blessed with two sweet, healthy, and generally normal little boys. I say this because I feel like sometimes my sarcastic sense of humor tends to make it seem like I don't appreciate what I've got. I do. It's just that being me, and I'm sure that this is a universal feeling, is just so darn hard sometimes. Now, I know it's not hard in the HARD sense or anything, but it is hard in the day to day dealings with people who have no brains yet.
Case in point. I have a border collie, Dixie, who is TERRIFIED of thunderstorms. This morning we awoke, later than we should've due to the darkness outside, to epic thunderstorms. As a walked down the hall to the boys rooms to wake them for school, I noticed the carpet was a bit damp. Then as I proceeded to the hardwood floors, downright wet, culminating in an enormous puddle in the boys' bathroom. First thought was that, once again, the art of toileting in the dark had escaped one of my children. Then I remembered the carpet and thankfully remembered that even at their worst, this was beyond their bladders capabilities. No leaks of any kind could be discovered. It was a mystery...until Heath remembered...Jack had bathed last night.
Now Jackson can't be expected to remember to use soap, or wash his hair, or even sometimes take off his clothing before he gets in the tub. He DEFINITELY needs to be reminded to pull the drain afterwards. Before you are confused, yes, Jackson is the eight year old. I'd worry more, but apparently it's rampant in 7-8 year old boys to have extreme bath aversions. Dixie in her constant terror of thunder had gone to the only closed in room of the house and jumped in the tub. That was still filled with water. Cold water. That was now all over a 45 pound border collie. A SCARED border collie who then proceeded to race through the house shaking to get dry.
I'm just saying. Life with small and the not so small is hard work and don't believe everything you read on Facebook.
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