Yes. My kids bother me (and that doesn't make me a horrible person).

I'm human and I have faults. Lots of them. This is why I can admit that there are some things about my kids that bother me. Yes, my beautiful, wonderful, amazing children drive me crazy and really, truly bother me a lot on occasion. 

Usually what gets to me are the little annoying things that I just, for the life of me, cannot understand why they do them. Some of these things gross me out. Some make me spit out my coffee in bouts of laughter. Some make me scream and yell like a toddler throwing a tantrum.  Some of these things I just ignore because if I let on that I have feelings attached to whatever they are doing, my too-smart-for-their-own-good monsters get some twisted satisfaction in knowing that they messed with me.

What could I possibly be talking about? Honestly, I am not even sure where to start.

Finding an unflushed toilet. With poop in it. With no toilet paper in it.
Ugh. So this one is just disgusting. If you don't believe that this happens, or you think your kids always wipe after pooping, they have been blinding you with an uncanny ability to remember to flush. My kids aren't as smart as yours. They never flush. On a near daily basis I have to say, "Get over here. Let me check your butt," and at least one child comes running over who needs to be inspected, then usually wiped. My kids are 5, 6, and 8 years old. Wasn't this supposed to stop after diapers?! I'm gagging a little right now.

Undies strategically hidden under a child's bed.
Usually not totally unrelated to the the example above ^^, but sometimes a stand alone issue: hidden, dirty undies. And they're not always just hidden in a desolate corner under the bad. We must always be on the lookout. Dirty, worn, stinky, stained, hard-as-a-rock undies can be hidden in the back corner of a closet, in a toy box, or any other place kids think we parents will never, ever in our entire lifetime look. I think I was smart enough to at least throw away the undies if I had an accident when I was over the age of 5. What is happening to kids these days, have they no sense of reality?! Shame?! Fear?!

Finding tissues stuffed back into a Kleenex box.
Umm... yuck? What all did they stuff back into that box? How clean were their hands when they stuffed that glob of tissues back in? How many of the tissues did they touch? Sometimes I'd rather rub my nose raw with a cheap paper towel than use a super-soft, lotion infused name-brand tissue that has been stuffed back into the box by my kids. Sometimes I don't care and use it anyway. Probably why I have bronchitis right now.

*Loud sound* upstairs. Me: "What was that?" Three voices in quick unison yell down: "Nothing!"
Can't I have anything nice?! My mom is literally smiling right now as she reads this because I am certain she said this phrase to my siblings and I at least 3 million times while I was growing up. But now I get it. I have a complete, unwavering understanding of why she said it. IT'S TRUE! Guess what, I can't have anything nice. Nope. Not for another 13 years, when my last kid will hopefully move out and go to college. On second thought I'll probably start getting grandkids from my oldest child by then so never mind.  I will never have anything nice again. My house will from this day forward always be filled with sticky, gooey, broken, ripped, glued-back-together, Sharpie-marker stained items. Sigh.

"I'm bored."
Hey, me too, but I don't have someone to constantly give me super fun, creative activities to occupy my mind all the time. I'm not saying I don't play with my kids or give them ideas, but when I have offered my kid 15 ideas in the space of one hour I am usually literally out of any more ideas for awhile. Especially when to most suggestions I hear, "No, I don't want to do that." I'm bored may be the straw that breaks my back. My 6-year-old daughter is by far my child who is in constant need of attention and action. Love her more than my own life, but come on. Mama needs you to just grab a string cheese out of the fridge, take your markers and coloring book to your room, and STOP ASKING ME TO ENTERTAIN YOU!

Whew. That felt good to get out. 

I think this list could probably go on for days, but I'll just stop right here for now. 

Being a mom is a rewarding, challenging, disgusting, never-ending task that I wouldn't change for the world. I love my kids... they do drive me a little crazy though. 

Alright, gotta go. Someone forgot to flush. 

I'm bored.