Which Are Harder To Handle, Big Kids Or Little Kids?
As the mother of both, I can only tell you that each age group has good days and bad.
Getting through the bad times is a whole easier if you try to remember the good days.
And sometimes, you are going to have to try really hard.
LOL My oldest daughter will be 16 this year; her younger sisters are 5 and 4.
There are times when I would happily trade them all for a colicky newborn, even though when I had one of those, I looked forward to the time that she would be old enough to just tell me that her tummy hurt, I would give her some Peptobismol, and we would both feel better.
Looking back now, having an infant seems so easy.
I know that it wasn't, that caring for a baby is hard, but at least the baby never talked back or hid chocolate under pillow, and forgot about it.
And, the baby never asked me for outrageous amounts of money, because she absolutely had to buy black eye shadow or pink hair dye.
Though neither the big kid nor the little ones ever cry for hours with no apparent reason, they hardly ever puke on me anymore, and they can all feed themselves.
The teenager has the desirable qualities of being able to do her own laundry, wash her own hair, and is sometimes willing to take care of her sisters so that I can do something luxurious, like take a shower with no interruptions.
She has interesting things to talk about, that usually do not involve cartoon characters, or what she had for snack at school that day.
She will give her honest opinion of whether or not my outfit looks ridiculous, though raising her to express her opinions is something I occasionally regret, she seems to have an opinion about everything that differs from mine, and she will argue with me until I agree with hers or send her to her room.
She can cook, but we are still working on cleaning up her kitchen messes.
The little ones are sometimes my favorites, because they will still let me read to them, and cuddle with me on the couch.
They do not call and give inventive excuses for why they need an extra hour to get home after their curfew has come and gone.
But then, they never go away for small amounts of time so that I can miss them while I drink a cup of coffee that is still hot, or watch a T.
V.
show from start to finish.
They will wear the clothes that I buy them, and allow me to put their hair in pretty braids and cute pigtails.
Their hair color is still natural, and not a color that defies the laws of pigment.
They love to sing adorable songs to me, songs with words I can understand, and that are not words that I wouldn't say.
So, which are easier, big kids or little ones? I still don't know, but I do know that I only want to kill any of them, some of the time, I like them all, most of the time, and I love them all, all of the time.
Getting through the bad times is a whole easier if you try to remember the good days.
And sometimes, you are going to have to try really hard.
LOL My oldest daughter will be 16 this year; her younger sisters are 5 and 4.
There are times when I would happily trade them all for a colicky newborn, even though when I had one of those, I looked forward to the time that she would be old enough to just tell me that her tummy hurt, I would give her some Peptobismol, and we would both feel better.
Looking back now, having an infant seems so easy.
I know that it wasn't, that caring for a baby is hard, but at least the baby never talked back or hid chocolate under pillow, and forgot about it.
And, the baby never asked me for outrageous amounts of money, because she absolutely had to buy black eye shadow or pink hair dye.
Though neither the big kid nor the little ones ever cry for hours with no apparent reason, they hardly ever puke on me anymore, and they can all feed themselves.
The teenager has the desirable qualities of being able to do her own laundry, wash her own hair, and is sometimes willing to take care of her sisters so that I can do something luxurious, like take a shower with no interruptions.
She has interesting things to talk about, that usually do not involve cartoon characters, or what she had for snack at school that day.
She will give her honest opinion of whether or not my outfit looks ridiculous, though raising her to express her opinions is something I occasionally regret, she seems to have an opinion about everything that differs from mine, and she will argue with me until I agree with hers or send her to her room.
She can cook, but we are still working on cleaning up her kitchen messes.
The little ones are sometimes my favorites, because they will still let me read to them, and cuddle with me on the couch.
They do not call and give inventive excuses for why they need an extra hour to get home after their curfew has come and gone.
But then, they never go away for small amounts of time so that I can miss them while I drink a cup of coffee that is still hot, or watch a T.
V.
show from start to finish.
They will wear the clothes that I buy them, and allow me to put their hair in pretty braids and cute pigtails.
Their hair color is still natural, and not a color that defies the laws of pigment.
They love to sing adorable songs to me, songs with words I can understand, and that are not words that I wouldn't say.
So, which are easier, big kids or little ones? I still don't know, but I do know that I only want to kill any of them, some of the time, I like them all, most of the time, and I love them all, all of the time.
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