Nothing short of being the ring leader of an actual circus could have prepared me for raising boys. When my oldest son was just over a year old, I had to have my tonsils removed, ended up being delayed three months because of my EKG. I’m pretty confident the abnormalities were due to the fact my son could climb walls. In addition to his suction cup hands and toes that could grip the slightest crack or lip on any large object, he was fearless — diving from the railing or the landing, riding pillows down the stairs. Little did I know twin boys would join him in just a years time. Now, I may not have a lion but I have a German shepherd husky mix, I’m a top hat away from having a official circus of dysfunction. From sun up to sun down its like having wild animals in the house. Before the coffee is done brewing my trash pandas are busy in action which ever direction I am not. We have replaced 2 toilets in 6 months because of unknown lodged objects within the toilet. I suspect the last toilet was victim to rubber ducky destruction. The oldest boy managed to get a wooden hairbrush totally flushed where it ended up lodged and then swelled up.

With my boys, I have learned to not get to serious about everything. They love so big it makes up for the mass destruction. I recall having the flu and being home alone with the wild boys, twins had just started walking. I remember being relieved they were letting me use the bathroom in peace. Then it hit me, they are quiet and not bothering me. The flu isn’t something you can rush or put a hold on. Upon emerging into the kitchen I see the trash can has been knocked over. I follow the trial of nastiness past the open cabinets where the contents had been removed and scattered. Baby gate knocked down. Trash extending to the living room, canned food, crackers, dishes and trash everywhere. I wanted to cry but still no site of the boys. In their room they sat drawing on each other with markers and eating crackers in a mountain of mess. Very proud of themselves and exited they began “mommy, mama, mommy, mama” ugh my sweet little Tasmanian devils. I dream of a house that has shelves around the top of every room. Childproof locks are a joke, more like parent proof. I hate waiting for my toddler to come open the cabinet for me. Every wall has become a mural at this point. I wouldn’t trade them for the world, I know all too soon this chaos will end and my home will be clean and quiet.

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