Kids

I just want to say, my kids really are pretty great. I know, I know, worrying about them all the time and working myself half to death sometimes makes me a tad crusty, but I try to write out all the really snarky things I think about it rather than say them to kids who won't understand and be hurt. Because I would never want to hurt one of them; they're the best thing that ever happened to me, hands down.
I was one of only three kids, all boys, but my mother was one of seven, and we lived next door to her widowed mother. (I vaguely remember my grandfather, but my clearest memory of him is his funeral.) In addition, almost all of my mother's brothers and sisters lived within a few blocks of us, and they all had families too. I was surrounded by a crowd of family from my very earliest years. Later, when I'd had enough of that, I struck out on my own -- only to end up recreating what I'd had before in my own family.
So now we have lots of kids, and I love them all. They made this whole damn day all better, even though it started out pretty crummy.