We all have to do things we don't want to do. My 4-year-old has to do his chores before he can play. He says when he is a daddy, he will be the boss and he won't have to do things he doesn't want to do. (That ought to work out well for him.) He reminds me of this daily. And then he tells me that one of the things I have to do that I don't want to is wipe his butt... just in case I'd forgotten.
He's completely right, however. If I could choose to keep my boys without wiping four hineys, I would do it. Alas, I have to choose.
I choose tush blotting.
In exchange for those things I don't want to do, I get to live in a home and spend my days with boys who say the funniest things EVER. As I am typing this, said 4-year-old is chattering away in my ear about music he can make with the silverware and asking me why I keep typing and erasing, typing and erasing. And now he's telling me about how he loves his CTR ring so much that I should really get my own CTR ring so I can remember not to yell. Or step on books. Or eat so much chocolate.
Here are a few things he said yesterday while we were in the van on our way to pick up a Zaycon order of bacon and sausage:
"Mom, you're like the dog I never had." It should be noted, he regularly refers to me as a dog. However, after being thoroughly offended the first time, when he told me he wanted to find a wife that felt like a dog, that felt like ME, I realized that this was a good thing. He LOVES his dog, Lola. She is warm and fuzzy and makes him feel good.
"You always break the rules sometimes!" He said this because I got frustrated with him while we were baking cookies and sprayed him with the sink attachment. Yes I'm the adult.
"We should go to Joan's house after she works and sleep in her bed and see where she lives and take a nap with her." Wouldn't be as creepy if Joan wasn't the owner of a local Chinese food dive. Yikes.
"Once I have my own wife and kids, I won't be sad when you and daddy die at all!! I'll be so happy!!" So rude. Hahaha.
He also says some amazingly profound things that have touched my heart like:
"Mom, just because you make mistakes doesn't make you a bad mom."
"I just love my brothers so much that it makes me cry a little!!"
"I have a warm feeling inside. That must be the Holy Ghost." This was during a listening of the song 'Glorious' by David Archuleta. Listen to it here. Right now. This version too. You won't regret it.
So I guess I'll keep him. He teaches me more than I ever expected. Being a mother is one of the most invigorating, infuriating, habit-changing, amazing things I will ever do. And I wouldn't change it for the world. Even with the butt wiping.
SIDE NOTE: My sister has been on my case about blogging more so we can preserve some of the ridiculous things we usually discuss via group text with our mom. I told her I would work on that, and so I am here. But in the process of writing this blog, I managed to do the following:
4-year-old was still hungry. Toast went under the broiler. I promptly forgot about it. Chaos ensued. Kitchen filled with mists of darkness. Smoke detector went off. Cancel button wouldn't work. 4-year-old said I ruined Christmas. Baby woke up. Twins ran a muck. 4-year-old forgave me. I took a picture. And then we all giggled as I sent the picture to my mom and sister via group text. We've come full cir
