I would venture to guess that there aren’t a lot of better or worse experiences in life than being a parent to a toddler. They are amazing, wonderful creatures full of so much energy and life. They also SUCK the life out of their parents like no other creature known to man. There are so many incredible moments with them that make you stop and smile and thank God for this being who has come in your life. And yet, there are just as many moments of desperation where you wonder where the next inkling of patience will actually come from to tolerate their erratic and unreasonable behavior.
I am currently struggling more than I ever have as a parent. Not only does a new baby bring its own added dimension and twist to the way a family functions, but a once sweet, well-mannered baby-like kid has now taken on the role of an intolerable, selfish, independent, stubborn, yet, still amazing, and sweet child. Many times lately, I ask myself, “WHERE DID THIS KID COME FROM!?!?” as I recall several of my girlfriends’ fits of rage during this time with their children. Frankly, I always attributed their struggles at the time with lack of discipline or control. Now I see things clearly.
Now, let’s get this straight (for the record). I absolutely adore my children. I do. But, lately, I’m finding it difficult to be in the same room with my 3-year-old about 85% of the time. He does have his sweet moments and his humor and charm get him pretty far in my book. But, I have to admit, he and most other 3 year olds drive me to drink. Seriously. I think I actually used to refuse to babysit kids over the age of 1 and under the age of 6 for this very reason. To be perfectly honest, I never liked babysitting any kids at all. I hated it so much that I actually took up ironing people’s clothes instead of babysitting in order to earn extra income when I was a teenager. I’ve never really had an affinity for other people’s kids or kids in general. This is a terrible thing to admit as a parent, right? Well, fortunately I changed my mind when my niece was born and grew to love kids enough to want one of my own. So, the fact that I have any kids of my own is, in and of itself, a miracle!
Before giving birth to these wonderful beings, I never knew the joy that motherhood could bring. I used to stare and gaze into my newborn baby’s face as he slept and just sob from sheer elation and the overwhelming feeling of love I had for this little being. I remember thinking, “I can’t imagine ever being angry enough to yell at this child…I sure hope God gives me the strength to be able to discipline him when he needs it.” Boy, was I naive!! There are days that I feel like all I do is yell. I never wanted to be that kind of mother. I’ve always hated hearing parents yelling at their children. I am an educated woman who has gone through much worse than having a child refuse to got potty in my life. How could I possibly allow my intentions and daily agenda to be violently thwarted by a tiny, little, stubborn human? I always knew it would be hard work and there would be tough days, but some days are just ridiculously hard to the point where I think I’m being tortured by wild animals in an abandoned jungle in Africa. Sometimes I envision monkeys poking at my feet and pulling at my hair while jumping up and down and screaming with laughter (at me)…then lions are raging at me so loudly that I can’t even hear myself think long and clearly enough to form a complete thought. Meanwhile, those elephants keep marching (with mud on their feet) around my head causing me to walk out the door and forget my keys, while the vicious crocodiles constantly have their big mouths open for more food. Didn’t I JUST feed them?!
Deep down, I know that time is fleeting and these moments will not last forever. One day, there won’t be any toys to pick up or conversations about dinosaurs or monster trucks. By the grace of God, my 3-year old will continue to grow (even if only from eating an excessive amount of chicken nuggets and Kekse) and become a normal, intelligent human being who is kind and caring and thoughtful and doesn’t screech a high C in the middle of a restaurant when his chip falls on the floor…or refuse to go potty unless M&M’s are part of the equation. I mean, seriously…what if he is 18 and won’t go potty unless someone offers him an M&M??? Will I need to hunt him down at a frat party and change his diapers? Logic tells me this won’t happen. But right now, this challenging time makes me think we’ll be holding him down kicking and screaming to brush his teeth well into his twenties.
Just sayin…
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