I could just put up all my pretty, carefully chosen pictures from the trips we just took, and we could look all happy and like we had just the time of our lives with no care in the world--
Rainbows 'n unicorns. Sunshine 'n cool drinks.
I could make us look like that family. Perfect-ish. I could leave out that the kids whined and moaned all through Chinatown,
And one of my kids was a total pill and tried to make me promise I wouldn't make him go on a trip again for a long time and I threw up my hands and repeatedly said something along the lines of,
"What kid complains about going on a cruise?? That is so messed up!"
Or, you know, I could leave out the tired, mega-meltdown #4 had on the beach. I could not mention that the boat rocked incessantly on the way home, and one night I could barely sleep because of it.
I could leave out all the yelling and how I still can't decide if I was disciplining too much or too little, and why do you kids have to act like little idiots if we get anywhere near an escalator or elevator, hello?
Calm down. Stop climbing crap. Help me pull some freaking luggage-- no mom cannot pull five pieces by herself, duh.
My son didn't accidentally kick a stranger's bike helmet off a bench and into the ocean,
and an airplane passenger ahead of Thing 3 didn't turn around and ask him to stop kicking his chair.
My oldest didn't yell he hated me in a random South Carolina gas station.
No, my daughter did not color on the dining room tablecloth.
There was no fighting. No smacking, no kicking, no pinching.
No one peed their pants. No one barfed in the rental car.
And I never, ever, scratched my head and wondered what the hades was wrong with me when I planned and spent that much dough for this. Nope.
Nothing but good, wholesome memories over here.
Yeah. We're pretty amazing. We're sorry you're not us, too.