Where the Wild Things Really Are…

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Rough night last night at the Woj house.

Baby T must be teething. 🙁

Taylor decided to sing/yell half the night.

The last good night’s sleep I had must have been at least a year ago.

Or was it fifteen years ago?

Want to know “where the wild things are”?

They are at my house.

In my living room. In my bed at times.

Inching their way between mine and my husband’s 2-second hug in the kitchen. Sneaking in the candy jar. Eating us out of house and home.

Spilling milk. Wearing mismatched clothes.

Putting holes in their shoes WAY before they should.

Forgetting to brush their teeth…

their hair….

and rarely washing their faces.

Wild things have memory issues.

Like where they put their homework.

Where the towels should hang.

How to fold clothes or place them neatly in the drawer.

Those wild things love to fight with each other.

Tease one another.

They love to say:

Mo–ommm! He’s touching me.

She has my toy and won’t give it back.

It’s MY turn.

And through all of that…the woes of parenting…the sleepless nights…

Today I’m dwelling on the fact that someday, I’ll be sitting in a quiet house, sipping my coffee in peace,  and thinking:

Wonder where those wild things are.