Am I really gonna miss this?

There are some pretty ridiculous things that get me riled up. The kids mixing Play-Doh colors, people putting ketchup on good steak ... and then the giant population of parents who forgot just how much it sucks to have at least two headstrong little people under their care. The last one is a doozy and it's been on my mind for a while. This post has been coming for weeks. This has been milling around in my brain since before I wrote this. And this one, too.

I hear way too often how much I'm going to miss it, or some version of that statement ... and honestly? Am I going to miss the screaming and fighting? The screeching for no reason? Scolding them for sitting too close to the TV? Fighting at bedtime because they don't want to sleep?

No.

Not at all.
 
In fact, I want people to stop making parents of young children believe these are things that will be missed by making overarching statements like, "It's hard right now, but one day you'll look back and really miss these moments." I'll miss it like that migraine I had in college that landed me in my bed for 24 hours, dry heaving and unable to peek out from under the covers.

Better yet, I want the people saying these mindless things to parents of young children to take a trip back in time to when their children were small. Particularly if they were stay at home parents with little or no help during the day, little to no social life to blow off steam and the stress of also wanting to still have a career while dabbling in multiple projects helping others in their field. Take a moment. For real.

Every time my mom says something along the lines of, "Some day..." I want to remind her of how naughty I could be and ask if she misses that, or my nasty attitude when I was a teenager or the near strokes I caused when I was in college. Maybe I'll ask her when I talk to her tomorrow. I bet that will go over well, and I'm being truthful. My mom is pretty awesome and we can have these mother-daughter heart-to-heart talks now that I'm not such a bitchy know-everything teen. Now I'm a bitchy, exhausted, know absolutely nothing adult.

I hate the idea, too, that my children "need" me now but may not need me later in life. Why does anyone entertain that concept? What's the deal with putting limits on when we need our parents, or that adult we look up to?

Call me crazy, but I'm a strong believer my children will always need me for one thing or another, and that will be true particularly if I have the kind of relationship with them that I have with my parents because not a day goes by that I don't think about a conversation I want to have with my mom or advice I need to get from my dad. I still need my parents just as much today as I needed them 15 years ago, 20 years ago and more. It's just a different kind of need. I don't need them to provide food and shelter for me, but understanding, guidance and love. Food and shelter, though, is always welcome - Thanks for the chicken, Mom! It really helped to restock some of the freezer.

The things I do miss so far are my kids being little enough for all four of us to sleep comfortably in our simple full-size bed. I miss when they weren't verbal yet and couldn't talk back, and when Josie wasn't so quick witted and ready to throw cuss words back in my face when I stop myself before they actually are said. "Why were you going to say God damn it, Mama?" Well, shit.

You see, it's not just other parents telling the rest of us these things. We read it in blogs, magazine articles and, oh my lord, in songs. Songs! I can't turn on the radio without feeling wildly empowered or like I'm being dragged through the emotional dredges, and if it's by chance neither of those, then I just want to be drunk/drunk in love. A couple of my favorites that make me feel like I'm not loving my life or my children enough - "Don't Blink" and "You're Gonna Miss This." Thanks a bunch Kenny and Trace. I hate you a little bit every time I cry.

And that's why I'm listening to Portishead and Goldfrapp while I write this. I'm not going to cry thinking about how much it's going to suck why my kids stop climbing in bed with me. It's going to suck so much to get a decent night of sleep. I'm going to hate everything about not getting headbutted at 4:15 a.m. I'm sure my husband is going to find it to be royally sucktastic to go to bed and get a solid seven hours before going and playing engineer every day.

I will say this: I'm positive I will miss the sweet moments of their youth, those are memories I'll cherish, but they'll also be memories that evolve as they grow - painting now will transform to a mutual love of art, singing in the car last week will some day be singing Christmas songs together while we bake for the holidays, reading stories at bedtime will become an undying appreciation for the written word. Those lessons are the ones that will make me tearful, but not because I miss them in the sense that I wish I could go back and do it again. I'll miss them because I'll remember how amazing it was to be part of those moments of teaching and developing and growth from child to adult. That kind of "missing this" will leave us talking about the "old days" someday and cause laughter and an even deeper bond, not an emptiness in the traditional sense of missing something or someone. I won't miss the fight over getting into bed so we can read that story. I won't miss the argument over keeping paint on their paper and not in their hair. And I certainly won't miss being screamed at from the back seat as I belt out whatever the heck is playing on the radio.

Believe me, I want to miss everything about these days. I want to relish in the moment of my kids being little. I can't. Not right now. Probably not even in 40 years when I'm telling their children how naughty they could be. The stories are always fun, there's always an educational element to it, but to actually feel like that is missing from my life - I don't think that moment will ever come. However, I expect I will reminisce and get some dopey look on my face when I talk about the way they made me want to pull my hair out and go outside to scream at the top of my lungs just to relieve the stress of being "mom" all day every day.

Reminiscing is largely different than missing something though, and that's one thing I hope parents young and old can agree on.