Nobody told me how stressful parenting is. Seriously. Like, being an air traffic controller pales in comparison. After all, not only are you responsible for saving lives, but those lives belong to tiny little beings who are more precious than anything else in all the world to you.
Nobody told me how messy it gets when children are around all the time. No matter how fast a mom moves to clean up, the children will always move faster to make a new, and probably bigger mess.
Nobody told me that being a parent means you don't get to sleep ever again. After a baby wakes you up every single night for months, your body forgets how to sleep through the night, even when the baby does.
Nobody told me how quickly your ideals can go down the toilet. Like when your picky 15-month old child will only eat beans, meat, and baby food. Although the faint hope remains that he will someday eat a balanced diet, you find yourself immensely grateful that he eats anything at all.
Nobody told me that raising two boys was like refereeing a never-ending hockey game. Someone is always running around, getting in a fight, hitting someone, or taking something that belongs to someone else.
Nobody told me how easy it would be to forget how much you wanted your children before life became catastrophe following crisis, or how you would have moments where that mother-love for your children would flash so clearly at the oddest of times.
Nobody told me that to love your children with all your heart can be the most exquisite pain and the most beautiful pleasure.
If somebody had told me, I might have been too afraid to embark on this journey, but I would have missed out on two of the greatest joys of my life.