Maybe hate is a strong word. But you know what I'm saying. Right now, the children are sitting on the couch and Gianna is reading Dominic one of her new picture books. They are having a very sweet conversation. There is no hitting or screaming or slapping or kicking or biting. I love them. I love them so much and I want a million more to keep them company.
But ten minutes ago they were squalling over...I'm not sure what. There were tears and physical violence and it was loud. Very loud. I was the loudest. I said, "KNOCK IT OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!! PEOPLE ARE NOT FOR HITTING/BITING/SCRATCHING!!!!!!!!!!!" And I hated them. Again, 'hate' may be a teensy bit strong. But I was not pleased.
And now there's a kerfuffle going on over who will hold the book. And I kind of want to take the book away, and ignore them. But I won't. I know if I sit down in the middle of them, and smell Dominic's milky smell, and feel Gianna's silky hair falling on my arm, I will remember how much I love them. Then I'll feel anxious for the new baby's arrival, excited to welcome them into this crazy crazy house full of crazy crazy people.