There's been a discussion over on Metro Dad about the things parents miss about their pre childed lives. I think that I miss adult conversation the most. Because I'm a Stay-at-home-Mom I don't talk to anyone but Aidan most of the day. The first 3 hours that Howard is home is spent with Aidan, and then he is usually catching up on his e-mail and stuff. We do talk, but it's usually about Aidan or our family stuff. Important stuff to be sure, but not the stimulating conversion I used to have when I spent all day with Adults. We do have conversations on an adult level, they are just kind of infrequent. You know?
There have been days that I wondered if I made a mistake when I had my kids. When I wondered if I could manage to raise them to adulthood without major damage to them or to me. I have sometimes felt like they would be better off living somewhere else, away from me. Sometimes that happened when they were having particularity bad days. I can, of course, remember Aidan's bad days easier than Allen's or Christopher's. Sometimes they were MY bad days that caused those thoughts. It wasn't until Allen and Christopher grew into their teen years that I wondered if they were doing it on purpose. Until then I always wondered what I had done wrong, why couldn't I understand what they needed? Because I didn't believe that children misbehave to be mean to their parents.
I love my boys, they are my whole life. I enjoy spending time with them, I feel lucky to know them. Oh there were times, and I'm sure there will be more, when I didn't like them very much. And once they were old enough to understand the difference I told them so. "I will always love you with all my heart, but today, because of how you are behaving, I don't like you very much." Was that a bad thing to say to them? I don't think so. I'd have to ask them if they were hurt by that.
I am very happy that I decided to have each of my three sons in my life. I'd never trade my life now with a life with out them. No, it's not easy to be a parent of a toddler, or a teenager, or even an adult. You always worry about them, and hurt for them when things go bad. But I, personally, enjoy being a Mom. I can still have adult conversations, if given the chance. I can still read any books I want to, and I can still enjoy the arts and crafts I like to do, I just have to arrange my schedule to fit them in. And for me that is fine.