…the complete and total face of the Earth.
I mean, to the point that I am questioning my own existence. I know that “life happens”. I am aware that children and jobs and just life can suck you right in.
But what the heck just happened?!
One minute I’m connected to the world and up on the news and the what’s what, the next minute I feel like, what I can only equate to, a chick coming out of the egg.
I attribute all of this….ALL OF IT, I SAY….to the fact that the baby is almost two. We all know, or at least have heard, of the “Terrible Twos” and the “Thrashing Threes”. But I will flat out confess that *this mama* totally forgot about the few months prior.
Oh.
My.
Lord.
I am pretty sure I took a shower this morning. I at LEAST physically got *in* and had water running. Whether or not any cleaning took place is a guess because most of my focus was on trying to keep the water in the shower due to the child grabbing the shower curtain and yanking it full off. Then, of course, trying to stave her off while she tried to climb in fully clothed in fleecy footie pajamas. Oh, and not to mention then taking anything from the shower she could reach and tossing it as far as she possibly could because she was mad at me.
Time out? Ha. HA! I SAY! Because how in creation do you give a kid a time out when you’re in the shower? YOU DON’T! This isn’t lack of parenting. This is full tilt reality. To all of you parents, or those in the role of parent, I raise a well ice-laden glass of adult beverage to you because this is all very, VERY real. And we do it every day. I’m not saying anyone without children doesn’t have their struggles, because you do.
What I am saying is that not everyone can appreciate a 2 year old meltdown and the grocery store in the middle of the seafood counter because she wants a piece of ice that the shrimp is sitting in. Oh, and we certainly can’t forget all of the looks and under the breath comments that are being made. Yes. Yes I did just walk away from her and say, “Bye” because I have been dealing with this 2 legged monster ALL MORNING. Would you rather me take a swing at her?!?! Maybe you would like to try to control her body that quickly fluctuates between rigor mortis type stiffness to jellyfish consistency with the thrashing of a netted fish and the “death to you” type will of an MMA fighter. Please….be my ever-loving guest. And you are right, I do look crazy because I CAN’T REMEMBER IF I SHOWERED and have been held hostage in my house by that evil dictator that is screaming on the floor by the halibut!
But then she gets up, and yells, “Mom-Mom”, and I turn faster than an Indy car to make sure she is quite alright. And those still-fairly-new-to-walking chunky legs move their fastest to get to me as I am half running, bent over with outstretched arms to her. We collide, both apologetic, both happy the moment is over, and both fully in love and reassured in each other’s arms.
And I would do it over every minute of every day of every month of every year – because, above all things, you are my gift. My precious girl. My tiny little life terrorist. My innocent to protect and guide and teach. No matter how many times, or how much time is needed, I will always put you (and your sisters) first.
Darn it. What can I say?
Love is love is love – and it’s all good!
Where Are the 'Structions?! 