Sometimes my kids drive me crazy. Like bonkers crazy. Apparently, I've been asking for "help" a lot lately. I didn't even notice until Big A asked me who I was asking to help me. Oops.
And then. And then I walk into the room and see this:
And suddenly all of the annoyance flies right out the window.
It always comes back though. Being a mom is pretty much like being in an intense relationship where you fight and then make up, with ridiculous frequency. I had a mini-breakdown this morning wondering why even the littlest things can be such a struggle with young kids. Big A has a flair for the dramatic (to put it lightly). Just getting her dressed can be a battle of epic proportion. For one, she only wants to wear dresses these days. So any day where pants are required, I have to grit my teeth and listen to the screaming protests. And then usually I have to physically wrestle her into the offensive pants. And then I have to spend 10 minutes convincing her that she still looks like a princess. It all sounds charming, right? Well, its not.
Meanwhile, Little A is very into her independence. Which is really great and age-appropriate and awesome. Except when you know, you have someplace to be and really don't have time to watch her feed herself a bowl of Cheerios one circle at a time. Have you ever sat through this? It takes about 29 minutes to get through a quarter cup in case you're wondering. And don't even try to help her out by loading up a spoon with say 4 Cheerios. Not - having - it.
Honestly, these girls are really lucky that I find them so adorable. And that I have such awesome coping skills and patience. Like you know, asking the invisible man in the room for help out loud. And coffee. And wine. And trying to remember that the things that I find so challenging now are really just a drop in the bucket in terms of what is to come. To say I'm scared of finding this out is an understatement.
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