I had a conversation the other day with a friend on the subject of, among other things, how absolutely fantastic and wonderful my children indeed are.  She said it first.  And yes, you read that right- I, the mother that tells it all, just like it is, agreed that my children were amazing little individuals.  And while I did agree with her synopsis, it is necessary to add that I was also high on the weekend buzz that is a late Friday afternoon full of promise, so I do confess that my judgment may or may not have been slightly clouded.

And so I say.  That these same children whom exhibit less than desirable behaviors that I write about in my lengthy, candid blogs and discuss openly and honestly on Facebook  and other social mediums are actually quite fabulous and incredible when all is said and done.  In fact, they are awesome.   And I can say this and believe it because every single one of them is now tucked away in their various sleeping cubicles in our house.  And all is well in the world again.  Blessed silence.

Notable mention: I am most generous with my descriptive writing allowances after hours.

Actually, even as little as one hour ago, I would have begged to differ with the above commentary.   My children, I would have contended, are the opposite of great; they are horrible little beasts intent on my utter ruination and eventual demise.   And I was thinking all this (in no uncertain terms, albeit quietly to myself) as I drove out the driveway to get a break from the mayhem that is the witching hour at our house: bedtime.

In fact, I was so convinced I would under no circumstances be persuaded to think anything to the contrary that I was actually talking to myself about this very matter as I drove feverishly up the road.  And I must say that I felt this feeling of doom and despair more or less until I arrived home again to our sweet little yellow house on the corner of Gard and Mill River East Road.

Indeed, I felt this pervasive melancholy settle and weigh down on me until I had taken an entire hour to cool my jet engines.  During which time I felt the urge to go the Dollar store and buy a bag of otherwise useless items that will gather dust on a shelf somewhere.  And then another urge to go to Foodland and buy up the last seven pie pumpkins they had on the shelf, along with two bags of sweet bar-b-q potato chips (and a few other things that brought my total to just under forty smacks).  Just because.   And all this, because retail therapy works, and I live in West Prince (P.E.I.)

So these are the places I shop at 9:00 p.m. on a Monday evening.

But when I came home.  Oh, the feelings that came over me.  For starters.  I found a report that my diligent daughter had revised and edited- a writing project that was not assigned for homework, but which she corrected and re-wrote anyway so as to show her teacher what she is capable of doing.  And I believed again that children are wonderful creatures- full of promise.  Then, I had a conversation with my husband about another of our children and some struggles they are going through at home and school of late.  And I believed again that children need patience and understanding.  And room to grow.   And later still, I walked into a darkened bedroom and watched my oldest child gently sleeping.   And I believed again that this parenting hat is the most important hat I will ever wear: raising our children to live up to the high esteem in which they are held, both by God, the community, family and by us as parents.  Raising them to be honorable, diligent, respectful, humble, ambitious, loving, honest, kind and truthful individuals.  To be as awesome as a person can possibly be in this world, with God’s help and guidance.  So that we as parents can be fully proud and humbled at one and the same time by the children that will someday rise up and call us blessed.  Whom I believe will be grateful for all we’ve done.

Because I know I am.  Grateful.  For all I have been blessed with in this life, both past and present.

When all is said and done, I still believe that sometimes what a parent needs is to escape the crazy house and the bedtime frenzy so as to remember this simple truth: kids are great.  They are actually pretty awesome.  And even as little as an hour away can help us remember that and put our lives into perspective.