I mean, I didn't mind puking for three months, getting kicked in the bladder for six months or breastfeeding them at 3AM.
I haven't minded the 2AM night terrors, the whining, the fussing, the coating of my kitchen table in various flavors of yogurt every. Single. Day.*
What I do mind is when my sweet little
So now? I am breathing through my mouth. And tweaking on a 24-hour Sudafed for which I had to sign my life away. And I can't fall asleep. And I'm spending my night watching Road House.
And now I know why Sudafed is a main ingredient in crystal meth.
Ice, ice, baby.
*Don't get me wrong. Those things do drive me nuts from time to time but in the grand scheme of things? The wrecking my future Miata, the trashing of our house with the help of 100 of their closest friends while Ty-man and I are out of town, or the downloading of Playboy centerfolds? Those things I will mind.