Roar

So I yell scream at my kids regularly. On any given day I scream so much my throat hurts by the time I hit the hay. I'm loud. Annoyingly loud. Stop right there. Please don't forward me the article floating around FB about how you shouldn't scream at your children. I do and I'm okay with it. Yes, I recognize it's ineffective but I continue to do it regardless.  Must have something to do with my need for being in control.  Apparently yelling and screaming at them gives me the false sense that I'm actually in charge.  Perhaps I should just surrender to the fact that nobody listens to me no matter what tone I take. Ouch.

Last Saturday in the YMCA lobby I was yelling so loud at M & N I'm pretty sure the phones stopped ringing, the coffee machine stopped brewing and the kid climbing up the rock wall lost his footing. It was bad. The worst part is that the people around me were totally disturbed while my kids remained completely  unfazed. Surrender.  Just surrender.

Here's what I don't understand.  If someone yelled at me the way I yell at my children I would totes write them off or get in my wagon and try to run them over.   My kids on the other hand keep coming back for more. It doesn't matter how often or how loudly I scream they are beyond obsessed with me. M & N are the only two human beings on this planet that are truly enamored with me. Like totes smitten.

I must admit - I love it. Well, I love it except when its time for me to do tinks, toots or shower.

It's scary to think at some point the tables will be turned and they'll be screaming at me. It's scary to think that although their love for me is unconditional (I hope) that they won't always be so smitten and obsessed. It's scary to think one day they'll say they hate me, I embarrass them, or that they want me to go away.  It's scary to think they'll grow up and tell me I'm not that cool (despite the fact I think I'm the cat's meow). It's all just scary.

 Glasses, greasy hair and gym clothes. It doesn't matter to them now and hopefully it won't 10 years from now. At this time, in this moment the only thing I can do is enjoy it.  Enjoy that I go to bed hoarse. Enjoy the looks of dismay in the YMCA lobby. Enjoy their love. Enjoy them and all their naughtiness. xox