****LANGUAGE ALERT: NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN!!****
The following post is not suitable for children to read as there is some language that I wouldn't want mine to read/hear.
I love reading Undomestic Diva! She's funny and very much to the point, plus she LOVES Starbucks. How could you not like her? :) Her post today is an awesome one, and she said exactly how I feel some days. Here is it:
~From kicking ass to wiping ass:
Life is not the same once you're old and married and have kids.
I remember our Saturdays used to entail nothing more involved than lying in bed, in pajamas, watching episode after episode of Cold Case Files or Forensic Files while arguing the best way to kill a person without getting caught.
Now, weekends are contaminated with household fix-it projects, soccer games and chores. There is no more sleeping in or ordering out for food, no more spontaneous adventures, fulfilling of sudden urges or being lazy for the sake of being lazy.
God, I miss lazy.
I'm not sure when weekends went from hoping we had plans to hoping we don't. At some point we went from buying ourselves nice clothes to bringing home the toilet that promises to flush a bucket of golf balls - with the same excitement.
The television is no longer ours, it's permanently tuned to cartoons and prepubescent tweens and the kids now know how to work a remote control, the DVD player, an iPod and a cell phone better than either of us.
We went from being young, smart and up-and-coming, to being the parents of kids who are young, smart and up-and-coming. Essentially, we went from kicking ass, to wiping ass.
As I look at the golf ball toilet that apparently doesn't fit within our bathroom after all, it's easy to wonder if this is as good as it gets... toilets that don't clog? Surely, this isn't the metaphor for my life, right?
There are lots of these little moments, when you wonder to yourself if this life, the one you're merely stumbling through each day, is what you wanted, had in mind, pictured.
But then life goes to shit, real shit, and you find yourself in a heap of pathetic on your couch, trying to keep it together because, goddamn it, you have no other choice. And in waddles your two year old who it takes three attempts to climb up on the couch next to you, but he finally makes it, cuddling up to you, happily pulling your arm over him and nuzzling up to you and you realize that no, this is what it's all about, right here, right now, living this small little particle of a moment on your couch. It's almost an epiphany, a sudden understanding, knowing that what it all comes down to is not clog-free toilets and excitement, kicking ass or knowing how to kill a man without being caught, but about savoring the unfiltered joy that trickles in between all the crap. ~