Wednesday, March 28, 2007

There comes a time ...

There comes a time in the day, or the week, or the month, or the year,
when I get really sick of my kids.
Sick of them being so noisy. Sick of listening to their incessant and nonsensical stories told in bad grammar and constant urms and stutters. Sick of their ability to make a mess out of something I just tidied up a few minutes ago. Sick of their carelessness of handling fragile things. Sick of their inability to keep their rice on their plates and in their mouth, not on the carpet. Sick of their bickering and whining and 'reporting'. Sick of them always calling calling me to tell me what someone has done. Sick of their constant hunger and pleads for permission to eat some crisps or Snickers. Sick of having to repeat the same instructions or requests for more than 3 times, only for it to fall on deaf ears or partially deaf ears and having to repeat them yet one more time. Sick of questions on how long till it is their turn to play the PS2. Sick of complaints of how someone is bugging them by giving instructions on how to play a certain game. Sick of hearing how someone is being bossy. Sick of cooking something, laying it out on the table and getting an "I don't feel like eating" instead, when just a few minutes ago they pleaded and pleaded for something to eat. Sick of having something sucking and clinging on me all the time. Sick of washing babies' bums. Sick of smelling sour poo. Sick of having to wake up or half wake up in the middle of the night to pull up my shirt.
Sick sick sick.

sometimes one of them would come up with a real gem that makes me laugh and puts a smile on my face for the rest of the day. They are quick to say sorry and claen up. They help me out in the kitchen when I ask them to. 3 of them can even wash the dishes and do a decent job at it. They are not averse to tell me something is yummeh and please can I have some more. They know how to take care of each other. I can trust at least one of them to look after the baby when I need some alone time. Babies' bums are so smooth. A tiny hug from tiny short arms are the best kinda hugs in the world. And nothing boosts your ego as much as someone telling you they need you.
Furthermore, I am guaranteed four pairs of adoring eyes, four hearts filled with undying love, till the day I die.

It's the start of a 2 week easter holiday, by the way.
wish me luck.

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