If

Dan and I have caught ourselves a lot lately saying things like, "If we didn't have kids, then..." Mostly this happens in the comedown of a crazy, scream-filled minute of trying to determine which child is angry and which child is hurt through the cacophony of noise they make as they wrestle over a toy/cup/book/cracker. The dispute settled, our adrenaline levels returning to normal, we look at each other for sympathy in the only place we can get it: the other parent.

Sometimes we mutter it as we turn down an invitation to the movies or dinner, or a party thrown together at the last minute. Sometimes it's after waking up for the 4th time in the span of a night, or cleaning up a tiny body, or the mess it made. Sometimes it's after an accidental headbutt to the face, or when you fall on a lego as you dive to save a small head from cracking on the hearth.

Sometimes it's after negotiating for a HAIR-BRUSHING, or figuring out the night before how to evade the rage of a 2-year old when she discovers that there are no waffles left.

Teething, cuts, bruises, barf, pink eye, diarrhea, tears, screaming, crying, biting my lip so hard it bleeds so that I don't haul off and hit someone. Losing voices, losing tempers, losing fights. Snot, on my walls, on my clothes, on my face, on my furniture. Things getting ruined, toys being assembled, late nights, early mornings, missing blankets, frantically ended dinners at restaurants out, unfinished meals, unfinished drinks, unfinished work. Mommy brain, fewer friends, an unstoppable leak of money.

There are sacrifices you don't think about when you're excited about having kids. The proliferation of the human race DEPENDS on this.

Segue to this New Year's eve, when we were lucky enough to have some of our very best friends come to visit with their two small boys. We all hung out for days, playing, dancing, cooking, eating, yelling, laughing and parenting. It was bliss. More friends and family joined us to celebrate making it through a rough year. We barely made it to midnight and everyone crashed. The day after New Years, after everyone had left and our children thankfully returned to school, Dan and I talked about what an awesome weekend it was, and how much we enjoyed it. We realized then, if we didn't have kids, we never would have had it.

Squeezes, soft kisses, holding sticky hands, unsolicited hugs, the most contagious giggles I've ever heard, wonder, amusement, glee, new depths of patience, tenderness, empathy, reasons to see Pixar movies in the theater, Disney Land, swinging pasty bodies into the surf, first sips of soda, birthday cakes, singing, smiling, STORIES, good reasons to get up in the morning, good reasons to go to bed early, adorable faces around my dinner table, spatula-lickers, dog walkers, lego engineers, barette collectors, prayers, singing bedtime songs, affection, snuggles, joy, funny games made up on the spot by tiny minds, tearing up watching them figure it out on their own, letting them chose the restaurant, a brother holding his baby sister's hand in the backseat of the car, heart-bursting pride, train rides, plane rides, roller coasters, swings, jelly beans, scrambled eggs, wergit!

I could ramble on for hours. This year we're all working on thinking in a more positive, giving way. We remind each other. Sometimes quietly, sometimes with a little umph. So thank you 2012, for already showing me what matters: the loud, messy, ruiners that I live with, and love dearly.