This is my confession...

The terrible, awful, very bad confessions of Miles', Liam's, and Ollie's mother...

• I tried to get on board with the "bugs deserve to live" stance like your dad and Nana, and to gently put the little creeps outside to be amongst their native environment.  However, all bets are off when you're not there to see it, and the little buggers don't stand a chance against the closest shoe/book/magazine/insert heavy object I can find.
• I ate 88% of your Halloween candy.
• I don't think that other mothers typically make their non-napping son stay in bed for the entire 2.5 hours the other son is sleeping so that he can have some "down time".
• Although I LOVE the 36th truck coloring page that you've just handed me this week, I can't keep them all.  And I don't have a growing file folder anywhere or a fancy binder.  The 126 others you can't seem to find from this month? They aren't going to show up in some box I've been keeping for your graduation day when we can pour over them together.  They're in the recycling bin babe. Keep up the good work though.
• I sometimes make really nice, fancy desserts and don't let you have any.  It's not that I don't love you, but I know that you would be just as excited about a sandy half-eaten Twizzler you found under the picnic table.
• I hate don't love playgrounds.
• I used to get super anxious about taking you to birthday parties of friends I don't know.  In fact, until earlier this week, I always just pretended we had a "previous engagement."  We appeared to be very busy people.
• Bathtime is not my favorite part of the day.  In fact, I myself find showering to be an inconvenience that I only do daily so my own mom won't scold me.
• Your father and I decided that you weren't going to get any presents from us for Christmas this year.  I'm sorry we suck so much, but we are taking you on a very exciting trip over the holiday.  Haven't you always been bugging us to take you to Morocco?  No? Someday you'll thank us.  Also, most likely anything we got you we'd have to leave here. 
• Which reminds me....a lot of your toys will not be coming with us to the U.S.  Which means they may be gradually disappearing over the next few months.  Not the toys that other people have been giving you as gifts, but more likely the "previously loved" cheap toys your mom and dad have wrapped up and given you over the year.
• I have a chocolate stash in my bedroom you don't know about.  It's even down at your level.  
• Liam - you have two identical blankies.
• You all three wore the exact same cloth diapers.  I know that seems gross, and they are on their last leg, but trust me when I say you didn't know the difference.
• I'm trying to groom one of you to be a hairdresser so I can get free colors and highlights from 18 years onwards.  
• I despise the movie "Flushed Away" and I can't even tell you why.  Maybe it's the idea of an entire city of rats living down in a sewer.  Maybe it's the poor story-line.  I think it's the disgusting giant belch let out by the slightly overweight rat at the beginning that is so powerful it includes gas ripples and the other rat's hair flapping in the the terrific wake of disgustingness.  I feel nauseous just writing about it - and I'm no prude.
• I sometimes don't eat all of my vegetables and I still get dessert.  When you're thirty plus you can do the same.
•  Sometimes when you're in trouble you say really funny things and I have to leave the room so I can laugh.
• The reason you probably won't get all of those really super cute crafts that all of the other kids in America are doing, or won't have kick-ass handmade party invitations, or other cool things is because I swore off Pintrest's ability to make me feel inadequate.  I no longer pin those sorts of things because I just can't keep up with them.  Other mothers are awesome at it. I tried it.  I really did.  We'll just spend a lot of time admiring everyone else's cute stuff and congratulating them on their hard work. 
• When you go to bed your dad and I eat delicious foods that we don't share with you.
• When they say you've been naughty or "overly active" at school I only pretend to side with them.  In truth, I'm dreaming of how those "qualities" will someday make you amazingly talented individuals, and we'll all sit around laughing about your crazy ways and how they led to your amazing careers as stunt doubles or playwrights or whatever it is that "overly active" little boys choose to become.

Forgive me.  I wish I could say I'm sorry....but that would be yet another lie.