Escape!

Okay, so it's only an escape to my bedroom, but I had to get away from my non-listening, constantly-arguing progeny.

If they don't listen, why should I bother talking? I like to think I'm helping them stay on task or prepare for upcoming events or, you know, develop into normal, congenial, productive members of society.
But maybe I'm just a big ol' nag.

I know, I know. Kids aren't supposed to listen. They're supposed to argue with everything you say. They're supposed to think they know more than you ever could.

That means they're intelligent, independent thinkers, right? Right?

Some day I will miss the days when I had to constantly remind Emma to practice for her talent show try-outs. Or insist that Hayley spend more than two minutes actually practicing the piano.

Usually thinking about how I'll miss these moments of parenting helps me find perspective. It gives me patience I might not otherwise find.

Examples?

Emma is constantly moving around the icons on my iPhone so I can never quickly find what I want. It could make me batty, but instead, I just let it go and deal.

Hayley loves, loves, loves to makes smoothies. But she hates, hates, hates to clean up the blender. Honestly, I hate cleaning it, too. I do it with a smile, though. It won't last forever.

Emma follows me around the house whenever she is home. I'm lucky to lock her out of the bathroom when I have to go. (And I'm not kidding about that.) Sometimes I just want to scream "PERSONAL SPACE!!!!", but I don't. I breathe deeply and remember she's going to be gone in 8 short years. Very short years.

Hayley rolls her eyes and stomps her feet and slams her door whenever she feels some injustice has been done against her. Which is most of the time. I find the amusement, though. The Teenage Drama Queen will be on her way to college and if she's anything like me, graduating, getting married and having babies in very short order.

I beseech you, Delicious Readers, to help me find perspective today as my upstairs
escape has become just another room to follow Mom to. (Yup, Emma's back.) I guess it is kinda funny. In a way.

Hayley at 2 1/2

Emma at 3 1/2

Okay, after thinking about it and looking at these two pictures of undeniably perfect children, I've rediscovered that elusive perspective yet again.