Are you STILL here?

I'm sure I am not the majority here because I don't think most people have the honor and privilege of getting to stay at home to care for their kids and therefore, don't really have the time to get sick of them, but don't some of you ever just look at them and wonder "Are you STILL here?"  I am ashamed to admit that these words have trickled through my mind...and more frequently in the past few weeks now that I think about it.  But I will admit these things at the risk of sounding callous, ungrateful and downright mean in hopes that my words will make another human being feel not so much like an a$$hole for thinking the same...

I envisioned putting up the Christmas tree with my kids to be this magical day filled with love, wonderment and joy.  Instead it was a day filled with me playing defense and being completely frustrated while trying desperately to hide the frustration so as not to "ruin the memory" for my kids.  Truth be known, I am sure neither one of them will remember a lick of the experience but in my mind they might.  And if their memory is anything like mine, only the "shit" will stick...most of the good stuff slides right out the other side.  So here we are.  The Ox broke 4 ornaments within 2 hours time.  And he couldn't have broken the stupid glass balls that were purchased at a bulk rate on the clearance aisle.  He HAD to break the sentimental ones that actually meant something and held reminiscent flare.  He would walk up to the tree as to throw it a high 5...across the room the ornament would go and crash to the ground.  The gal broke nothing and was gentle and delicate with each little piece.  Granted she hung all 320 ornaments in one spot on the tree, but she did so with great care, pride and adoration.  At the placement of each she would say "Look!  How beee-tiful!"  This pissed her brother off to no end so he would just try to knock 'em out of the park.  I estimate it took me twice as long this year to adorn the tree as it did last year.  All the while I just wanted to stash the Moose in his room or outside or in a meat locker.  All of which are surely frowned upon by the National Academy of Child Development.  And speaking of locking, ironically, earlier that morning after my departure Hubba Hubba was all alone with the kiddos and encountered a slight mishap.  Whilst he was making some adjustments to the females bedroom door to make it shut with ease there was a backfire in the previous parental move of flipping the door knob around and putting the locking mechanism on the outside.  Evidently much delight was taken by the midgets knowing they had a hand in locking daddy in the bedroom.  He was NONE too pleased with the arrangement and apparently there were some colorful statements bellowed from the other side!  To say he was livid is an understatement.  When I asked him what finally convinced her to unlock the door he stated "Nothing!  I had to take the damn thing off the hinges!"  I guess the silver lining of that was that he had the wherewithal to fashion some tools out of the princess toy box and emancipate himself.  He would never have outlived the litany of jokes had he not escaped on his own volition.  Thankfully for him he is one savvy man!  Needless to say, when he broke free they were both still there...

It's just that we're NEVER alone.  And I don't want to be alone much...but sometimes would be nice.  Maybe just once a day.  We eat together, shower together and God forbid one of us has to go to the bathroom...there's at least one audience member if not both.  The boy enjoys sticking his head between the hubby's legs while he goes...the girl used to do the same.  Then one day she tried to "grab the yellow rain" and that put a quick kibosh on that accompaniment.  I realize at this age they are sponges and need this contact.  All I am saying is there are times...

Yesterday the "why's" were so incessant I could hardly stand it.  I felt like the Ragin' Cajun...you know the guy from CNN's Crossfire?  I could hardly get my answers out to the first "why" when its partner "but why" came to follow.  Hubba Hubba laughed from the other room while smoke streamed from my ears.  At which point, I almost uttered "ARE you still here?" but refrained.   

And for the past 5 nights the female has decided that she will again grace us with her presence shortly after lights out.  This is all new so I am still trying to figure out how to handle it.  The 1st night I was just in that beginning stage of REM sleep and Hubba leaned over to tell her to go to bed.  I must have launched 3 feet in the air from shock and fear.  There's just something about a 3 foot human standing at the side of the bed against the pitch darkness...whispering.  The silhouette of it all is enough to just send me through the rafters.  My mind immediately goes to "The Exorcist" and suddenly my daughter is Linda Blair speaking Latin, crawling upside down and spinning her head 360 degrees.  I realize I reference "The Exorcist" frequently in my cyber rants but I contend that it is the single freakiest movie ever put to film and every child has this potential after seeing it.  Didn't sleep for 3 days after the 1st viewing.  Just sick.  And it doesn't help that The Moose, in his very early, highly communicative state has taken to demanding objects by way of yelling "Dimi!!!" (translation--Gimme!)  So he repeats "Dimi! Dimi!" over and over and I am again taken to the damn movie and the young priest's mom is crying "Dimi! Dimi! Why you do it Dimi?"   I'm seriously on the verge of issuing time outs for this "offense."  He is being rude so I am not totally out of line here but truth be known I would more want to "put him away" because he scares the hell out of me when he says this than actually being angry. And I digress...

So back to Senorita Sassy Pants...seems as though after about an hour in her room, reading by nightlight, she gets bored.  She ventures down the stairs like a bull in a china shop and then loiters at our door for a spell.  She finally makes her way through the door--closer to our bed--where she proceeds to sigh loudly, huff or "accidentally" kick something.  The first couple nights, post-sigh/huff/kick I would inquire "MYA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"  She would reply, "Oh, Hi Mommy!" (as though we were just  meeting for the first time and this is totally normal.)  Then she proceeds to recite this lavish story about how she'd had a bad dream and was scared and needed a kiss.  She is still not onto the fact that we have a monitor downstairs and can hear, loud and clear, all 183 chorus's of "Police Navidad" over the waves, knowing full well she has yet to fall asleep.  I call her on her shenanigans and her shoulders drop in defeat.  She says, "Fine!  I will just go to bed then."  Other nights I have feigned sleep just to see what would happen.  Could she simply just go away on her own?  Tonight she hovered with her audible antics for about 5 minutes, realized she was getting nowhere, gave me a kiss on the arm and then scurried back upstairs-my plan worked!  Believe me, I am fully aware that just because it worked once doesn't mean I won't be asking her tomorrow "Are you still HERE!?"

But at the end of the day I ADORE my kids.  Wouldn't trade them for the world.  Couldn't be more grateful that they are healthy, happy human doings...Lord knows they aren't "be"ings.  There are times, sometimes every hour, but times where I want to hop a plane to Mexico and call it a day but you know I never would.  I mean, what would life be like if my Ox wasn't puking on the Christmas tree skirt?  It would be boring.  It wouldn't be my life, that's for sure.  Who needs sleep anyway?  Entirely overrated!  Privacy?  Should have known upon delivery that I would never sniff an ounce of that again.  Sanity?  HA!  I wasn't sane before so I might as well celebrate it in grand fashion.  Crazy is en vogue, right?  If it was, I would be working it on the cat walk in Milan right now!  Instead I am sitting in my "nice sweats" reflecting on who I was vs. who I am.  Change is good and truth be known I wouldn't change my life for all the money in the world.  I will go to bed and simply pray that when I wake up and say "Are you still here?" they will reply "With f#@!ing bells on, lady!"