To Be Deleted

This post will be deleted once our children are old enough to find and read their mother's blog. If it still exists whenever that time comes, that is. 

You fooled me, Mom.

Confessions to my children that you will not hear from my mouth until you, yourselves, are parents:

--- I hated making my bunk bed growing up. Tucking sheets and blankets into the rails is the worst. Somehow though, I willingly purchased a twin over full bunk bed with a trundle when I was pregnant with Ryan (well, if that doesn't give away our family plan hopes ...). And now, since Ryan isn't exactly capable of making the bed beside tossing a throw pillow or two on, I make the bunk bed. 

And I still hate it. Yay, siblings sharing rooms. Boo, bunk beds.  

--- I haven't made our bed that doesn't even have pesky side rails in three weeks. 

--- I tell Ryan that he can't eat all the cheese while I am grating it. Yet, somehow half the block makes it into my mouth whenever he looks away. 

--- Every night I tell Ryan how important it is to close his eyes and get some sleep. Hours after he finally caved to the power of my silent sleep, baby, sleep mantra, I am still awake, probably staring at a wall or someone's brunch on Instagram, not listening to my own advice. 

---I'll most likely take away whatever hypothetical electronic device that connects you to the rest of the world, but disconnects you from me even though I am right next to you. Yeah, I've checked three different social media apps in the short time span of typing these confessions on, get this ... another electronic device.

--- I can't stand wearing itchy clothes, too. I'm sorry if I buy you a wool sweater.

--- I do actually know where those nonsensical number books went.  Out of your sight and reach.

--- Ryan gets a time out when he throws a tantrum whenever I innocently bring him the wrong (according to him!) food. Did I get a time out for this? No.  

Read this quick because pretty soon it will be filed away with a number of old photos.