Okay, just tell me what I need to hear.
Tell me that your kids are absolute loons.
Tell me that nobody listens to you the first six times you tell them to do something.
Tell me that you still get called up every night an hour after bedtime for ridiculous things like, "I heard a noise that sounded like a car" or "I dropped my bookmark."
That they scream both gleefully and frighteningly for the majority of your day.
That you're never quite sure if someone has broken a bone or snatched a toy based on each scream.
Please tell me that your child wears a very hot and uncomfortable gown to bed even after the ninety-seventh time you've explained that it's the very reason why she's sweaty every night.
Tell me that she refuses to believe you but begs to have her hair put up, her fan turned higher and her cool mist humidifier blowing directly at her head.
Tell me that no matter what cup you give your two and a half year old they choose to drop it on the floor, stuff food into its straw and figure out how to shake water from it at every single meal time.
Tell me they also take mouthfuls of said water and spit it into their dish repeatedly.
That your almost six year old child has started stomping when she doesn't get her way. Stomping. Like that classic image of a spoiled brat we've all come to know and loathe.
That she's also started a new form of whining that is ten thousand percent unacceptable.
That you were certain your second child would potty train early and now you realize that she's been using the toilet seventy percent of the time for eight months with no further signs of readiness and that it's most likely your fault because you simply haven't put enough effort into it.
Tell me that watching your child play with others is sometimes excruciating.
That you constantly sit back and think, Didn't I teach her better than that?
That you always thought you could control all of those things when you became a parent one day. That you now realize you can't.
That you have vodka.
Seas can be a bit stormy sometimes. We go through intermittent swells of horror that dissipate into lulls of wonderfulness. The next time the little ones are pissing each other off I have to reach back in my memory for the image of what their faces looked like when they rode their favorite ride together at the fair last week. Because that minute was one of the best minutes I've ever experienced as a parent. Total joy. And joy is something we strive to find daily when really it should be the biggest part of our day every day.
So for all of the crazy, unpleasant moments that seem to multiply and sometimes never end - I wish you more joy-filled moments. Ones that you can brand into your memory to pull out when you are just a millisecond away from losing your shit. Again.