Neither. It's insane and humbling.
Have you ever heard someone say something similar to this:
"I'm never having children. People putting out little carbon copies of themselves saying, Oh doesn't he have his father's eyes, doesn't he have his mothers lips? No, that's disgusting."
"People who have kids are egotistical. They need to know that they will have "life after death" and prolong their legacy""
WELL, I've got a newsflash for you Walter Cronkite. They're wrong.
I fully respect EVERY SINGLE PERSON who decides (key word) not to have children. There is no judgement passed here. I actually admire a person who feels like they wouldn't be a good parent or are too selfish to be parents. My personal feeling is that they are being responsible and respectful.
Now, onto another point.
I would like to think that before kids I had some sense of dignity.
|Dignity. Always Dignity|
Now after having two children I'm afraid the only shred of dignity I have left has just been flicked from a nose picking, car loving, two year old.
When I heard the first quote from a movie, I laughed out loud. Then a few days later I was watching ANOTHER movie (for the life of me I can't remember) and they had a similar quote saying that people who have kids are extremely egotistical.
yes. it's true.
So here's the post to end this insanity.
HOW HAVING CHILDREN IS THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF AN EGO TRIP.
I would like to preface that this is all first hand experiences with my two adorable, crazy children.
*addition. It all starts at BIRTH. This child, before it's even born, demands that you show your unmentionables to at least a half dozen people. Strips you of your modesty and, dare I say, dignity and without the lovely epidural, makes you cry and scream at the top of your lungs. All the while regretting ever doing the 'deed'.*
It all starts as a newborn. If it's not the baby puke all over the back of your shirt because you can neither see it, or feel it (thanks G's), it's the two wet spots over your nipples as you browse up and down the aisles of Costco, completely unaware it's the breast milk stains, and not your engorged breasts that people are staring at.
Then they can sit up. They are so cuddly and cute, you carry them on your hip and show them off to the world. Adorable, beautiful, and coo to make your heart melt. Then you smell something, feel something warm drip down your leg. You don't want to look, but you have to. You know what it is... poop. Another HUGE diaper blow out. Where does this kid store all this poop. SERIOUSLY?!! But no worries, luckily it's a hot day at the zoo and you want your child to be naked and one with nature.
Then they find the twins. I loved to breastfeed my children. It was seriously the most rewarding, calming, peaceful thing I have ever experienced. And, your children will love it too. I can't even count how many times I've had to pull one of my children's hands out of my boobs, or out of other peoples boobs, or a confused child out of confused looking male members of my family. Yep, there's nothing that draws attention than someone's hand in your boobs.
Then they gain super baby strength. Seriously, how can babies be so incredibly strong? It's like holding a half ton bucking bronco in your puny matchstick arms. They leap from your arms, and do other people see the leaping lizard? NO they just see your child dangling by the seat of their pants from your desperate grip. ("she ain't gettin' no mother of the year award...")
Then they TALK. Their first blessed words. Mama, Dada, Boo, Nana.. so adorable. Then they start to copy you.
"SHUT UP!".. what did she just say? "DOUCHE".. oh my gosh, Kurt we really need to clean up our language. Then they get curious.
"Mom, why does that person have an eye patch?" "Because he's a pirate." (not my best moment.) "A PIRATE?!!" (enter disgusted look from eye-patch man).
"Mom, you're hair is crazy. Mine is beautiful because I combed it. You need to comb your hair. It's not beautiful"
"Daddy." "yes?" "You're not funny" (which totally cracked us up).
"MOM! STOP SINGING!!!"
"Did you do a good wipey?" "Yes, I did. I did a little tinkles and a BIIIG POOPS."
"Daddy, did you poop your pants?"
...the list is never ending.
*side note: my children also have the ability to say/do the absolute nicest things imaginable, completely random. Reese will tell me I'm beautiful, and a good mommy. Everett will just walk up to me and give me a kiss and a bear hug. I then forgive and forget all the things they have done because I melt like warm butter.*
Then they get sick. My apocalypse had come to the house. In a 12 hour span I had been pooped on, peed on, puked on, drooled on, smeared with food, and sneezed on. It was not my most glorious moment. Nothing drops your dignity scale than your son acting Cherubim fountain and innocently peeing on your chin.
The scream of death AKA tantrums. GLORIOUS. Now the trick is to discipline, but not seem like a psychotic child beater in the grocery store. I have learned to ignore the obvious stares ( in which, at that moment of no patience, those people are seriously walking on thin ice) And discipline as if I was at home. I feel awful and I hate this most of all. Every time I have to reprimand in public, I feel like I have turned from the Evil Queen from Sleeping Beauty to the Dragon. And yes I realize they are both bad- when tantrums are afoot I lose all my maternal Mrs. Jumbo (from Dumbo) and go all Evil Queen on everyone.
I have gotten more stares and quips below the breath up here in Utah than ever before. It astounds me that some of these people call themselves christian. If they had any idea what these two kids are like, what they are screaming about.
I'm sorry but my child DOESN'T get candy just because she's demanding it from me. I will say no. And she will scream. I am not a bad parent.
One last example that Ego and Parenting are not synonymous.
Recently I was shopping with a zip up sweater with just the G's and a bra underneath. Both my children were sitting in the front of the carts at several stores. When I returned to the car at the last store, I realized that my sweater had been zipped down half way, revealing my old nursing G's (it was laundry day) and my bright pink flowery bra ( once again, laundry day). No one stared or even let me know that my shirt was down. Luckily I didn't run into anyone I knew. OR they saw me and avoided eye contact and quickly swerved to a different aisle.
On that note, and after sufficiently proving my point, I add this. Though my dignity may be in shreds, I would much rather be in this stressful mess than to be alone without my family. These children do things that just amaze me. They are both so incredibly smart, loving, caring, and sweet the majority of the time. Reese says Please, and Thank You sometimes with out being asked. Hearing Thank You, from your baby is one of the most wonderful things ever. They also love each and everyone of their family members and pray for them each and every night. Reese makes sure she mentions them in her prayers (which are the sweetest) "Mommy, Daddy, Bobo, Black Black, Zeusy, Nana, Papa, Grammies, Grampa, Orion, Lolo, Jocey, Adelyn, JR, Auntie Jen, Uncle Jared, Auntie Kari, Baby Ella, Chad, Auntie Ashley, Brandon, Auntie Shelley..and then she ends it always with "who else?".
they totally redeem themselves for all the crazies.....
Though they may be a little active, I still love them to death, and after, for eternity. Though I don't consider myself to be a great lover of ALL children. However, I do love these two. They should make a stronger word that means love, because that is what I feel for Reese and Everett, my stinkers, my loves.