Things are loud as hell and crazier than ever in the Jackson 5 home. Right now, as I type this, doors are slamming (already one door jam is broken in this house), boys are screaming, and I’m about to run into the street with a white flag. When did motherhood become such a joy?? I swear to GOD my sisters and I were NEVER this loud and obnoxious. Yes, to some degree this can all be blamed on testosterone, but at some point in the history of mothering, somewhere around, say, 1980, I think things took a drastic turn for the worse. Kids are not kids like kids were kids when I was a kid. I know it makes me sound old to say that–and hell, I’m not yet 35, so I don’t think I’m old–but crap, kids are horrible nowadays. HORRIBLE. Don’t let anyone tell you their kids aren’t horrible. They all are. Horrible and lovable and adorable and Satan all wrapped into one bundle of dynamite about to blow up in your face. Take for instance, our kids. One second, they are absolutely stunning and amazing and doing things I never thought possible from a 7, 5 or 1 year old. Then, a second later, they’re stunning and amazing me by doing things I never thought possible. Yeah. That kind of stuff. You know, saying things they shouldn’t say (“Mom, is Jesus Christ a swear word or a bad word?”), doing things they shouldn’t do (kicking doors so hard that the door jam breaks away–did I mention that one?).
Then, like I said, the brightest kids on the block return to dazzle me by reading many grade levels ahead of theirs, building things with such precision that a mouse could make it a mansion, or finally learning who mommy and daddy are (we don’t have high expectations for the 1-year-old just yet. Learning who we are is a huge step in the right direction!)
So anyway … it all reminded me of why I came here tonight to post in the first place. Here’s my favorite passage from my favorite book: Alice in Wonderland (of course).
Enjoy. And think of the Jacksons. We’re all mad here as well.
(thanks to kody for the clip from apple.com!)
“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
“You must be, ” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.”