We're not the only ones...

Before we had children (I refer to that time as B.C.), we were horrified when we observed parents yelling at their kids, and having absolutely no patience with their off-spring. We would cringe when we heard wailing tots at the Walmart or grocery store, and smirked at the moms who looked like they had been dragged under the wheels of a semi.
Okay, we now have kids. And, we now are waaaay more understanding of others in a similar situation. We now sympathise with the mom and her screaming children at the check-out line that is ridiculously long, and also curse the store management for only opening 4 check-out lanes where there are 20 other lanes closed! Why have a gazillion check out lanes if you never open them all?
With nights of uninterrupted sleep a very distant memory, we always look (and feel) like we've been hit by a truck before the morning even gets under way. And there are mornings that one of 3 kids has a messy face and we're out in public. It's hard to keep track of which one has gotten their face wiped and which one was told to wipe own face, and which one just played with the water in the sink. And sometimes the only reason I think having boys are easier is because you don't have to worry about combing out the tangles and tying hair into ponytails. I'm just grateful that Ceilidh has yet to discover braids, or worse yet, French braids because that's one skill I just don't possess. And I'll bet the farm that my spouse can't braid either.
A few weeks ago, we were on our way to attend Devlin's soccer trophy day at a neighbourhood park. One of those events where all the soccer participants in the entire league receives a trophy, a few snacks, and there's opportunities for more photos. Let's see, at least 12 kids per team, 6 teams per night, 5 nights per week, and that's just one age group. There's probably a thousand kids. So, the league tries to coordinate a timetable with every team slotted for 30 minute slots at the park. Parking is limited. It's a warm day. There's kids everywhere. Children are running here and there. Parents are trying to keep track of kids and siblings of various ages. We heard and observed more than one parent yell at their off-spring. Once upon a time, we would have raised our eyebrows at such behaviour. Now? We're just grateful we're not the only ones who yell at our kids. It makes you feel like you're part of a club, and that you're not the only inept parent who cannot control own flesh and blood.