I know I've already blogged today, but I just wanted to get this down before I forget. Because it might be worth reading back on on one of those days ;)
I am totally in love with my kids. It could make me sad that they will become teenagers who might not want to hang out with their uncool mum, but I don't think my kids will be like that. I think they will like hanging out with me (even if it is just because I'm the one with the cash hehehe), because I like hanging out with them. I love them for who they are, as individuals, as changing individuals, and they know that. What I don't like is squeezing in cleaning, the necessary evil, in between quality time.
Yesterday, when mum and I took them into Echuca for the day, I realised that they are growing up and I was surprised that I felt sad. My sadness was from the days I have wasted, taking my foul moods out on them, or at least not being patient as I could have been. I'm not a saint, as I tell my friends who often comment how much fun we appear to have in facebook photos, I tend to not take photos of or share the photos where I am dragging them into their rooms or yelling at them to 'just get out of the kitchen!' (I stand by that request, from one too many milk accidents I've had to clean up, but I do need to be a bit more patient at times).
Actually, I remember when Olivia was under 2 and Kimbal had had a series of bad nights. I was so tired, and really not feeling like the parent I wanted to be. So I took Olivia outside and took photos of her playing with the hose, thinking that if she (in years to come) told me how awful her childhood was I could counter with all of these lovely photographs of her laughing into the water. That was the first time I did something like that. The good thing is though, that once I get out of the house, my mood does change.