What do you do when your child or children ABSOLUTELY refuse to cooperate in some form or another? Better yet, what about when they conspire against the parents? That is EXACTLY how I am feeling right now about my adorable children. Sometimes I think my little monkeys get together in the night and make a plan on how to make me go beserk. It usually starts in the morning-they get up, get ready for school, and as they are leaving I ask, "Is your bed made? Did you put your pj's away?" which is followed by a unanimous, "OH MOM! WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE TO SCHOOL! CAN'T THAT WAIT TIL WE GET HOME?" Hmph. Mind you, it's 8:07 am, school does not start until 8:30 and we live 2 minutes away-literally 2 minutes away, walking. I stand my ground and point out that they were all up by 7am, so they have plenty of time and HAD plenty of time to complete this task. They begrudgingly stomp back inside and make their beds and then they are off by 8:11.
So, during school hours I tidy up, sweep my kitchen floor for the first time of about 40 times throughout the day, and try to keep Hurricane Z-man from destroying my house, as well as deter tornado Lolo. I swear, I can leave one room and come back in 2 minutes and it's been devasted by a 16 month old. In an ealier post I alluded to the fact that Z-man has discovered my cupboards. Not only has he discovered them, but all of a sudden it's a carnival game of "Who can clear out the cupboards as fast and as loud as you can". I can hear crash, boom, thump, sometimes a wimper when he drops a pot on his foot, bang and slam. So as I am teaching Z-man to "clean up, clean up, everybody everywhere...." Lolo is somewhere else in the house, plotting my next break down. Tag team.
Flash forward to after school...I am sprawled on the floor, my hair is a mess, my makeup probably isn't on (unless I had a PTA meeting which forced me to get ready), I may or may not be in my Juicy Sweats (after all, they are the comfiest), toilet paper is hanging from the rafters, balls are being thrown across the floor, paper is being scattered, children are running around squeling with delight or with fear, can't tell anymore, food is spilled on the counter, the bathroom water has been left on, the baby is playing with boats in the toilet, etc, etc, etc.
So this scenario is OBVIOUSLY exaggerated, but the feelings of being overwhelmed are not. Sometimes I do feel helpless, sometimes I am totally on top of my game. Each day is different, but all days are counted a blessing, even when I can't even think straight. I truly am blessed: blessed to have been able to carry four wonderful, crazy, beautiful children; blessed that every single one of them is healthy; blessed that they have a father who loves them AND me; blessed that we have a roof over our heads and an income to keep it there; blessed to have family close by that can help alleviate some of my stresses; blessed to have a father who told me I started out life as a BIG STINKER but turned into a wonderful mother (although I don't always feel that way); blessed to have a mother who informed me that she too felt like a failure, felt stressed, felt inadequate, that I am normal and she is there to support me; blessed to have in-laws who offer encouragement as well.
I didn't really intend for this to turn into a pity party, but I needed to get some of these feelings off my chest. I will admit that I am not Superwoman. I think I try to be at times-who doesn't. I am not crafty, I am not always organized, but sometimes I totally am organized (I like lists), I always have the laundry completed, but not the ironing. I HATE IRONING! My bed is always made, but my bathroom could use some help after I have been in there getting ready. I am not perfect, and I can admit it.
So, back to my original question now that I have gone off on a mental tangent, what to do?? Love them. They grow up too fast.