I wish I was a fun mom.
Just ask my oldest.
He's quick to tell me.
In the past month, he's said to me:
"Mommy, I love you and Daddy. I love Daddy because he always fixes my game. I love you cuz....well, I love you even though you're no fun."
Then...the other day he said:
"Mommy, you're the boss of the house."
I said, "No, Daddy is the boss of the house."
And R said, "No, I know you're the boss because you're no fun."
These things weren't said in anger or to be mean. Just matter-of-fact.
And I can't even get all bent out of shape about it because I'm afraid it's true.
I'm the mom who says, "No climbing trees. You might fall and break your neck!"
"No jumping on the bed! You might fall off and break your neck!"
"Don't go down the slide head first. You might break your neck!"
And on and on...
I am no fun.
My kids have cabin fever and are starting to act like the zombies in I Am Legend.
They NEED to get outside of our four walls. Not to mention that I do too.
The problem...it's been so freakin hot around here that there were heat advisories all over the place teling people to stay IN and stay COOL.
Now that it's cooled down, they want to go to the park...and I want to take them.
But then I'm faced with the stressful event of trying to keep track of 4 running kids while pushing the baby in a stroller.
The 3 oldest (6, 5 & 3 1/2) aren't the problem.
It's the 2 year old who runs at the speed of sound and has NO regard for his body. I find myself running back and forth, under and around the enormous jungle gym making sure he doesn't dive to his death off the highest platform or take a fantastic tumbling header off the 18 foot slide--all while pushing a stroller and frantically calling the 2 year old's name.
On the upside, it's the best workout ever.
But the mental anguish just doesn't seem worth it.
While the playground is mercifully fenced in on all sides, it's still H U G E. And there are (as you would imagine) kids E V E R Y W H E R E.
Remember, I am the one with severe anxiety. I "know" there is a pedophile lurking in the shadows just waiting for my back to be turned.
I just "know" that one of the kids will fall, head first, off the monkey bars and break a bone or suffer a sever head laceration.
So by the time we leave the playground, I'm a ball of stress wrapped like twine. Suddenly, the trip to the playground that was meant to be fun is causing me heart palpitations.
Thankfully (?) the kids are oblivious.
All they care about is that I'm making them leave when we "just got here" (an hour or so later, of course).
I know it won't always be this way. Right now, though, if I could talk with women hoping for, planning, or wanting large families, I would definitely share these things so that they have a realistic picture of what it's like having several children close together.
It doesn't mean I regret it or that I would advise AGAINST it (and who am I to advise anyone of anything anyway...), but these are things I didn't realize or think of before.
Kids need play time and outdoor activities. I'm just trying to figure out how to provide those things while also avoiding a heart attack.