What they have Ruined

My kids, God love 'em, ruin lots of shit.  This is only the beginning:

1.  My body.  I have never been "thin" or "toned" but I looked human at one point.  Now I resemble a balloon that has been blown up too many times and then left in a field for a week.  Gross.

2.  My house.  There are holes in the walls, doors falling off the hinges, towels molding in the bathrooms, bannisters missing, grass replaced by mud, footprints on my kitchen counters, sticky handprints all over, and toys, broken and not, everywhere.  Books are "peeled" all over the floor in the babies' bedroom, boogers wiped on the windows, the tv, the pillowcases.  Its a disaster.  There is no point in cleaning it up.  It won't last. 

3.  My car.  Marshmallow fluff smeared on the dashboard, wrappers everywhere, petrified french fries under carseats, pop spilled down the doorskin.  Again, disaster.

4.  My sobriety.  I used to be sober when it was just the 4 older kids, the ones who listened and did what I told them.  Those little bastards drive me to it, and the liquor store a half block away (oh, yes, walking distance!) doesn't help at all.

5.  My self-image.  When my 3 year old asks me why I feed the baby out of my belly button, I get the idea that gravity has not been kind.

6.  My sanity.  I used to be able to control my swearing.  I used to only yell occasionally.  Yeah, forget that.  I am a yelling, cussing mess.  Most of the time.  What's that?  You lodged a Littlest Pet Shop critter in your sister's nose and now its bleeding?  Hmmm...is this something I need to address?  How bad is it bleeding?

The list can go on and on, but I want to make clear, for all the things those little freeloaders have ruined, the most important thing is my lonliness.  I can never again go to the bathroom alone, without interruption.  I can never again talk on the telephone without a little voice screeching in the background.  But I will never be lonely, I will never be alone.  Oh no, not even if I want to.