My kids, of the two-legged variety, are taking a large toll on my mental and physical well-being. The youngest, let's call her E, is 2.5 yrs and just now arriving at the terrible-twos, indicated by her spontaneous hour-long tantrums at a decibel to hurt anyone's ears. I am waiting for my neighbors to inform the police over the I-want-a-cookie-for-breakfast dispute that ensues daily at our home. My oldest is 5.5 yrs, which is when kids apparently manipulate, lie and torture their younger siblings and parents, for the purpose of amusement alone. We have a lively household of unadulterated screaming, spankings, and tantrums of the adult variety. My foot is bruised from kicking a door yesterday in a rebellious act against the methodical mutiny and rebelliousness of my YOUNG children. I am trying to find someone to blame for this uprising, which should be considered typical of someone from my X-generation. File this complaint under "blaming my parents for everything and the school of thought concerning child rearing during the late '70s". Where did it all go wrong?
The goat kids were a ton of work to raise and have gratefully moved along to their new homes. They were always hungry, pooping everywhere and jumping at me and nibbling like a lot of hooligans, but they think I am "Mom", which is really rewarding. If I had never been able to have children, which was a reality without drugs, goats could have briefly filled a real emotional void. As much as I LOVE raising Nigerian Dwarfs for their hardiness, personality and beauty, they are prolific and those kids take quite a bit of care and patience before they are ready to scoot along to another family. What can I say, besides that I miss them already and may consider trading my human kids for more of the four-legged variety....after we get them through college, of course.