I am a mother of three beautiful girls. I love my girls very much. So much, in fact, that I will lovingly help them pack on their 18th birthdays. I will even fold their clothes and fill up their cars with gas...like I said, I love them very much. Until that day, I will continue to rant silently on the computer and never tell them how much they make me want to pull my hair out.

I am going to leave out how the smell of their diapers made me throw up in my mouth a little and how I had my watch set to remind me it was nap time.

I will never tell my oldest that I was humming "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" in my head while she rambled on for 20 minutes about an episode of Hannah Montana.

I won't tell my 4 year old about clipping her finger nails as an infant and accidentally getting a little skin.

I won't even think about telling them that I threw out their favorite smelly toy while they were sleeping...I'll just let them think they lost it.

I won't even hint at the fact that I ate some of their Halloween candy when they were at school.

The last thing to ever come out of my mouth is that two of them were 'a surprise' and only one was planned.

I will leave out that I lied when I said we couldn't go to Chuck-E-Cheese because it was closed.

I definitely won't mention how I cried my eyes out when I saw my first stretchmark or how their father and I snuck in a quickie during nap time. That would just be cruel.

I will forever leave out how I stayed up all night just watching them sleep and making sure they were breathing. I won't tell them how I worry every time they go out to play or how I want to cry when they tell me they love me.

I will leave out the details of their birth and how I was in labor for hours just to end up having a c-section.

I won't tell them how I fear for them everyday and how I pray that they will never be harmed...how I wish I could give them the world but know that there will be times that they will struggle.

I won't mention that I didn't eat so that they could have seconds or that I had to choose between formula and gas when they were babies.

I won't tell them how I spent hours baby proofing the house and how many times a day I worry that it's not enough. I won't tell them how I wish they could stay little forever because I know how innocent they are and I never want them to lose that.

I won't tell them how my heart breaks when I punish them even though I know it is for their own good.

I won't tell my girls that I still watch them sleep and that their snores make me smile.

Like I said, there are some things that you just don't tell your children.