I loved getting kicked in the nuts
with thick Stride Rite shoes.
I loved stepping on tiny Legos on the
floor of every room in the house; each one jabbing into my bare feet.
I loved when there was a poop smear
all over the crib.
I loved discovering a missing bottle
of formula wedged behind the crib; and the foul, cheesy smell that blasted my
face as it was emptied into the sink.
I loved carting that damned diaper
bag everywhere.
I loved all the clothes you had to
buy for only a three-month period. Only
to buy more later.
I loved how he threw up in my mouth. I loved how he pissed on the couch.
I loved freaking out when one
slammed his head into a coffee table, and the other one scarred his head on the
dining room table.
I loved having to keep calm when I
saw a lot of blood.
I loved when she had such a weak stomach
that she vomited if food was offered at the wrong time.
I loved our disgusting carpet.
I loved losing my temper and feeling
like a monstrous asshole afterwards.
I loved when they screamed after
stepping into an ant-hill.
I loved how she twirled her hair so
much she had bald spots.
I loved because he got a cheap ring
stuck on his finger so we had to take him to a jeweler to get it cut off.
I loved how he slept on my chest because
he was too afraid of the Disney hotel.
I loved how he shot a Nerf gun in
the other one’s face.
I loved how she shrieked at the boys’
robotic bug toys.
I loved reliving math homework and
science projects.
I loved school fees, field trip
fees, locks, expensive calculators, folders, backpacks, paper, pencils, glue,
crayons, and making lunches.
I loved the terror of a dark, humid
house without power as a giant hurricane roared through and we huddled in a
tiny hallway hoping the roof would hold.
I loved trying to prepare them for
Middle School.
I loved picking them up from
baseball, football, track, drama and band practice.
I loved the myriad of questions.
I loved battling ambivalence toward
school, checking homework, skipping chores and talking to teachers.
I loved not knowing what was
bothering them.
I loved having to acknowledge we had
to buy monthly “girl stuff”.
I loved hearing the doors closed and
having to knock before entering.
I loved the lack of chit-chat and when
they left to hang out at other kids’ houses.
I loved that they were tall and in
charge of their own time.
I loved that I didn’t have as much
to do anymore.
Why?
Because I wouldn’t get all the really good stuff. And since this list constitutes about 7 or 8%
of the total experience, it was mostly good stuff.
You know what’s interesting? I was going to write a list of the good
things at this point, but I hesitated.
To me, it would almost feel like a rich jerk writing about how cool his vacation
homes are and how many hot chicks he has around him. Writing a list about all the great stuff my
kids gave me feels like gloating.
Seriously.
That's how good it was.
