A house full of kids. Screaming kids. Kids running in and out of the house. Yelling. Lots of yelling. The dogs barking and jumping all over. A NERF gun war might break out in the middle of the living room. There’s crying and laughing. I’m bored, I’m hungry. Can I, can he, can we? It isn’t fair. But you let her…
That’s my night. After work. After a mixer. When most people are settling down for the night, mine is usually just starting. Dinner, baths, homework. It’s a crazy house.
Teenager with attitude, sensitive preteen and then there’s my baby. They all milk it for all it’s worth. They all push me to the edge. It’s a whole bunch of crazy. But it’s my crazy. I love my crazy. Sure,I’m totally down with a quiet dinner and a bubble bath. When the kids aren’t home. When they are; bring on the crazy. Our house might be nuts but it’s full of love. Everyone loves each other unconditionally. Everyone knows we all have each other’s back. Tight bond. Tight connection. Forever.
I’ll do whatever I can to make sure my kids know how much they’re loved. It’s super hard running a house with 3 kids by yourself. That is exactly why I’ve decided not to sweat the crazy stuff. If they want to play darts; clean up when you’re done and don’t break anything.
Rule #1 for dating me; you have to be able to handle the crazy. If you can’t, I’m so sorry. I love my crazy and it’s not going anywhere anytime soon.