When my first child was a newborn, I took him to Walmart to get something. I remember pulling my precious, sleeping baby out of the car at the same time that the woman across from us was loading her screaming 4yo into her car. He dragged his feet, and she yelled at him. She spanked his bum and yelled some more before chucking him into the car. I clutched my baby to me and wanted to cry that she could display such anger toward her sweet little person.
If only I could see the future. Well, I've been initiated. I am that mother.
Children are enigmas. When they pat my face and give me kisses and hugs and tell me they love me, my whole body fills with warmth and happiness. And then a second later they are screaming, whining, hitting, hurting the cat, painting their clothes, and spilling their food everywhere.
I love naptime and bedtime. I can't get them into their beds quick enough after a meal. I breathe a wonderful sigh of relief when they are all silent and sleeping.
I wish I was more patient. I wish I was the kind of mom with lots of crafts, songs, and goodies. I admire those that are. For me, there's always room for improvement.