My dishes don't love me (but my son does)

My house was finally quiet.  No screaming.  I approached my dishes with excitement and began scrubbing while zoning out in my own head.  I found myself falling in love with these dishes...with this whole moment...a moment to myself.  Why did I once hate this chore?  It's so relaxing!  These dishes treat me so well.  I will never have to restrain these dishes to keep them from harming themselves.  These dishes are calm, and quiet, and I will never have to remind them a thousand times to use inside voices.  I will never lose sleep over these dishes.  I scrub them, put them away, and rest assured they will stay there all night and not suffer from night terrors.  They are so predictable and their mood is consistent.  I never have to walk on egg shells in fear of triggering a melt down.  These dishes will never scream a blood curdling scream when they hear a sound they don't like, or touch a texture that bothers them.  I bet these dishes would let me take pictures of them.  They arent easily irritated or overwhelmed. They don't get over stimulated in crowds.  They'd let leave them with baby sitters.  They would let me have just one night with visitors that didn't end in a melt down of the century.  These dishes do not make my hair fall out or leave me throwing up in stress.  These dishes do not leave me praying in desperation.  They don't fall to the floor screaming everytime someone laughs.  These dishes do not make me apologize to strangers as I fumble to pick them up off the grocery store floor.  These dishes will never pee in their bowl of cheerios because they can't leave their playdoh.  They wont scream at strangers to be quiet when they try to greet them.  These dishes don't make me stick to a strict schedule.  They don't make me guess their mood, rephrase my compliments, avoid certain adjectives.  They don't ignore me.  They don't demand me.  They don't refuse to eat food, refuse to wean, or refuse to calmly change an activity.  These dishes are not particular, peculiar, or obsessive.  These dishes don't sleep with their legos, or religiously stick playdoh in all of our key holes, door hinges, candle holders, and remotes.  These dishes do not punch me and bite themselves when I ask them to brush their teeth. 

I will never feel like a failure when I walk away from the sink...because washing dishes is so much easier than parenting.

Then my son, my very high needs, extremely sensitive, hard to manage son, came running into the kitchen to tell me "mommy, you're weird, and beautiful, and I love you!"
Right then, my heart smiled, and I hated these dishes again.  They were taking away time from the little 3 year old human I love most in this world.

You're living proof that dreams come true.

These dishes will never squeeze my face and kiss me.  These dishes will never be the cause of playdoh in the soles of my shoes reminding me that I helped create a little boy with a huge imagination.  These dishes will never keep me on my toes wondering what surprises are in store for the day.  These dishes will never have donut dates with me or require the same song in the car every time we leave.  They don't high five me after they've done a 100 piece puzzle with no assistance.  They don't tell me I'm a beautiful princess.  These dishes don't have my husband's beautiful eyes.  These dishes will never giggle at fart noises with me.  They don't have an uncontrollable sweet tooth.  These dishes will never have pure excitement on their face as they recite their volcano and dinosaur facts.  They will never gleam with pride as they successfully name all the planets or the bones in their body.  They will never make up songs about poop or tell me how "lovely" their day was.  They will never let me run my fingers through their curly blonde locks.  These dishes will never look at a basketball hoop and only see a pirate ship.  They will never bring me to my knees in prayer for patience and guidance.  They will never hold their baby brother's hand while nursing together.  They will never be able to fill my heart with so much love, and hope, and joy as my little boy has. 

I know the days are long, but the years are so very short.