Basically, the kids are kicking my ass. (see? they are even driving me to swear.) I'm flying solo a lot lately with Rick working 15 hour days and 6 day weeks. 3 and 2 is rough. Their behavior has been ROTTEN lately and today I found myself screaming at them to have self control and that in our family, outbursts of anger and yelling and being disrespectful and temper tantrums are absolutely unacceptable. Except for me, apparently. Yep, it will be a miracle if I'm not screwing them up royally. This motherhood gig is the best, hardest job I've ever had and I'm reminded every day of just how much I need to rely on God. What a scary, beautiful, challenging, humbling ministry he's called me to. I'm so thankful he loves me even when I fall so extremely short most days.
And then the minute they're (finally) in bed (for good) (maybe), all I want to do is scroll through our recent pictures and smile and remember how sweet those angel babies of mine are. I love them with all of my being. I know that this is just a rough patch and a short, fleeting stage in life. Things will calm down at the shop and we'll be able to eat dinner together as a family of 4 again. Harrison won't always test boundaries and scream at me and say that I don't love him and get out of bed 1000 times before finally falling asleep. Harper won't always wake up at 5am and wrestle me when I put her in her car seat and throw her food on the floor and melt down because she can't have a 20th bandaid for her nonexistent bobos and pull all her clothes off her hangers and dress and undress and redress herself 1000 times every day. They won't always squabble and bicker and brawl. One day, they won't do any of these things and I will miss all of it and wish with all of my sentimental mama heart that they were 3 and 2 again.
|channeling Ray Charles|
|A Harrison selfie|
|singing together at Disney on Ice|
|my sweet little mama|
|she raids my closet too|
|when they're not fighting they really are best friends|
|sweetness right here|
And this is why you're not allowed to lock yourself in your closet while trying to get in a much needed and long overdue phone conversation with a good friend. This took 6 towels to mop up. (And notice her wardrobe change #4 of the day...at 9am).
It was suspiciously quiet for 30 seconds so a hunt for Harper was necessary. I smelled her before I found her hiding behind the shower curtain. She decided to give herself a sponge bath with an entire tube of orange-scented body scrub. At least she smelled good.
This is how you know you have a brother. She insisted on dressing like a ballerina...and then chased after me with a pointed gun shouting, "Pow, pow! You dead, Mommy!"
Over the weekend the kids' beds got upgraded. I have intentions of painting his bed red and updating his decor, but for now, it works.
I'm not gonna lie, I got teary eyed seeing her crib taken out and the toddler bed put in. We are officially out of the baby phase now. Ask me later how the bed transition is working out for the kids. Hopefully at that point I will be able to answer "really great!". I actually told Harper tonight that she needed to stay in her bed and hide from the monsters so they don't catch her...and that right there is sound parenting. Told you it would be a miracle if I'm not royally screwing them up!
Harper got her first hair cut today. We are quickly running out of firsts, I'm afraid.
They are growing up at lightning speed, which is why it's my continuous prayer to cherish these days instead of just surviving them. The days are long but the years are short. Couldn't say it better myself.