Sigh.

That's me exhaling my relief that we survived six (yes, six) Christmas celebrations with our 3-year-old son Parker.

If you are lucky enough to have celebrated the holidays with a young child in your home, you know what that sigh means. You've experienced the frenzied excitement and anticipation that accompanies Christmas morning. And in the end, you've experienced the extreme fatigue that comes after chasing a sleep-deprived, all-hopped-up-on-sugar little person.

But you also remember what it's like to be a child again.

Experiencing Christmas through my son's eyes is one of those memories I hope to recall when I'm old and most everything else has left my brain.

So when I recently read a mommy blog about things the author would miss about having little kids, I figured Christmas with Parker would be at the top of my list. Then there are those that are not. They are, in no particular order:

I will not miss getting up at 5 a.m. Before Parker, I slept until noon, at peace with wasting my Saturday away. There were no little hands that needed help pouring a cup of morning milk. No one needed me to turn on cartoons. Those days of blissful laziness are long gone. Three years gone, to be exact.

Even though I begrudgingly have reconciled the fact that 7:30 a.m. is my new version of sleeping late, I still wake in protest most mornings. Today's sleep deprivation is monumentally greater than what I experienced with a newborn. Maybe because Parker is mobile, and if I close my eyes for a quick second, he could be halfway to China before I realize he's gone. That has a tendency to keep a mama on her toes.

I will not miss having an audience for my bathroom business after I've pried my eyes open at whatever ungodly hour Parker decides to rise. It doesn't matter whether I'm going to the bathroom, taking a shower, putting on my make-up or brushing my teeth, Parker holds an all-access pass to the potty. And it's not enough for him to be present. He has to welcome a menagerie of toys into the fold and discuss the world's problems according to a 3-year-old.

I will not miss having to refrain from eating in public because our arrival makes all other diners within a 25-mile radius want to stab themselves in the eye with their steak knives. There's something about restaurants that brings out the Satan in some toddlers. He camouflages himself as a food-throwing, tantrum-having, noise-causing 3-year-old. It's not pretty.

I'm certain there will be a time in the not-too-distant future when Parker is plotting all sorts of mayhem to send me to an early grave. It's then, despite my better judgment, that I'm likely to recall all these things and pine for the days when Parker was little.

As long as he's getting up at 5 a.m., chances are he is snuggling under the covers to watch TV and letting me rub his back while he falls asleep. And if I didn't have him barging into the bathroom, I would miss out on those impromptu hugs just because I'm his mama. And if we were able to eat out more often, I would be much more broke than I already am. (See? There really is a positive side to every situation.)

Reluctantly, I admit all the stuff that drives me crazy now might end up on the list of those I'll miss after all. Meanwhile, this mama only wanted two things for Christmas: an extra hour of sleep and a trip to the bathroom without an audience.

There's always next year.

April Klutenkamper of St. Peters is the marketing director for a youth organization. Opinion Shapers are chosen annually to write columns on topics of interest to them.