“You are so lucky that you have such beautiful children.”

“Be grateful of your children, at least you were able to have them easily.”

“Children are a blessing!”

Yes.  All of these statements are true and I adore my children.  I love them, they make me laugh, they warm my heart and they have amazing little souls.

But.  Really?  Children are assholes.

I have one twin who has always been an early bird.  For years he was up by 6am regardless of when he went to bed.  That slowly adjusted to 7am and I was so thankful for that extra hour of sleep.  His internal clock is set.  I can deal with that.

This past weekend was extremely busy for me and I passed out early last night utterly exhausted.  I needed to sleep and I needed to sleep long.

FIVE AM, Anthony crawls into bed with me.  His bed is mysteriously “wet.”  I just tell him to come up and go back to sleep.  Which he did, but then I was awake.  The normal 7am wake up call comes, but this time it isn’t Gabe but Nate at the foot of my bed.  Finally, EIGHT AM Gabe comes crawling out.

This day I could have slept until 8:am.  I should have had that extra sleep because Anthony and Nathan are rarely up before 8:30.  But no.  This day I was up at 5 for no good reason (the bed was not “wet”) because kids are assholes.

Kids are always fighting or crying over something.  They tattle-tale over nothing, they pull down their pants at random.  They wander off at the beach .  They pull hair and spit at each because they know that’s the most disgusting thing they could do to someone (they know this because I tell them over and over and over again).

They run screaming through the house because they only have one volume (LOUD).  Before you know it, you have a beautiful five year old…that still can’t wipe his own ass.  You find boogers in strange places.  They break things for sport.

Little boys find it funny to hold on to kitten legs and laugh while the kitten tries unsuccessfully to run away.  They dump out every toy box in about 30 seconds flat, but only when you are trying to clean up.

Did I mention they break things?

Then they buy themselves a stapler with their hard-earned money and you find little half used staples laying randomly around your house, your couch, the bottom of your foot.

So, next time you tell me how lucky I am that I was able to have so many beautiful children, just know that behind my sweet smile I am thinking, “kids are so overrated.”