Remind me again why I wanted kids?

I am so over my kids today. All day long, contrary attitudes, fighting, crying, general brattiness. I had to go into my room and close the door to keep myself from totally losing it. Lucky for my hips, there is no chocolate in the house. Don't get me wrong, some days are great. Everyone is happy, sharing, obedient, careful with snacks, nice to mommy and others. Other days, like today, they are the exact opposite. Before anyone without children judges me too harshly, I challenge you to spend a day with 2 kids who woke up on the wrong side of their crib or bed, refuse all food you offer, yet still cry they are hungry, refuse to do anything you ask despite threats to give all toys away to children who would really want them, and are grabbing at each other as viciously as possible as often as you blink. Maybe you wouldn't mind so much if they were someone else's kids, but when they are yours, you will also be prepared to jump off a cliff.

On my message board, there is often a debate (which I never see in real life) about who has it harder, stay at home moms or work out of the home moms. I really believe everyone's life is relative to them. The grass is always greener on the other side. That being said, staying at home with my kids is not rocket science. It is not hard to play with them, or to make lunch and snacks. What I find hard is more mental. The lack of adult interaction. The inability to take a "lunch break" to run to the mall for some shoes. There is no yearly review. I will have no idea what kind of job I am doing until my oldest goes to school. Then I will not know how my corrected parenting is working until they become adults. That is a lot of uncertainty and wondering if what I am doing is working or worthwhile. For someone who always defined herself by her job, title, and paycheck, thinking it's a great day b/c we managed to get through the day with no potty accidents is a little disheartening.

Well, the oven is ready for dinner to go in, and my kids are clamouring for my attention. Who do they think I am anyway?