We've had a rough day. A rough few days actually. I find myself frazzled, the house is a disaster, I can't get anything done, and it's all owing to the pint sized terror in my house. Even Mellie the infinitely patient sitter is losing it when dealing with Halle and the constant pushing of boundaries and breaking of rules. I know it's normal, I know that this is just a phase, and it will surely come and go over the next few years as every phase does. I think it's just even more trying because there is no break, when she has a bad day I'm the only one here to deal with it. To get screamed at and have to dole out the punishments and try to be consistent and loving while stressing to her that what she's doing is wrong. After days like today I just want to scream. I want to drink myself into a coma and sleep till noon the next day. I want to hire someone to clean my house because the miniature tornado has not only destroyed it once again but kept me from picking it up. I want a day at the spa and some time to recharge so I don't feel so tired all the time. I want to take Halle out to do fun stuff and have things go to plan instead of dealing with a toddler who's either throwing a fit or running in the opposite direction. All this I feel every day. I'm frustrated both with myself and with her. And then ...
I'm in her room, sitting by her bed, I've just read her our usual nighttime story. We kiss, hug, I tell her I love her and she tells me she loves me and we say night night. I leave the room to start cleaning up dinner, shortly after that I hear her on the baby monitor. "Momma?" Over and over she calls me, I go into her room and sit by her bed and she says "Lay in momma bed?" In the sweetest voice, the voice of the little girl who isn't spoiled or giving me attitude or being defiant. The voice of my daughter who loves her momma and just wants to lay next to her while she sleeps. I pick her up and put her in my bed, I lay down several hours before I'd planned on it. I get to watch her as she watches me reading and slowly her eyes get heavy and she falls asleep. I get to here the telltale sigh, every time she falls asleep she sighs and I know she's out.
Those are the kinds of things that recharge me for the next day of terrible two's, for whatever new tricks she has up her sleeve or whatever new ways she comes up with to challenge me. I'm handling it, I'm dealing, and trying to do the best that I can to turn out a great kid. Sometimes I worry that I'm failing her, failing her by being a single parent, failing her when I lose my patience or get annoyed with the non-stop monologue (seriously if she's awake ... she's talking!!). Then I remember that she loves me, and I love her. For better or worse we've got each other and we're attached. She'll keep testing me and I'll do the best I can on any given day. I knew I'd have a smart kid, a kid who would have a stubborn, independent, and crafty spirit. I also sense that I'm getting some payback for the first two wonderful and easy years!