At the Mercy of a 2 year old

At the risk of beating a dead horse, I'm talking about toddler drama.  Again. 

Today was another one for the books.  Elena is two months shy of her second birthday and I think it's safe to say that we are strapped in tight, white knuckle grip and all,  on the roller coaster that is the Terrible Twos.

God help me.  No, seriously.  God, I know you've got greater prayers to answer, but if you could send a little sanity, a lot of patience, and a dose of reassurance that I'm not the worst mom in the world, that'd be great. This conveniently comes at a time when I cannot drink or medicate myself.  Awesome. 

I'll spare you the gory details, because honestly?  I'm exhausted and it would take too damn long to recount the days' events.  In a nutshell, let's just say that every. single. thing. in our daily routine has become a production.  Diaper changes, getting dressed, meals {don't even get me started on meals, that's a post for another day}, going shopping, getting in and out of the car seat, sitting in the stroller, sitting in her highchair, brushing her teeth, which bib she wears.  I'm pretty confident if she were talking in sentences she'd tell me she hates me. 

Perhaps I'm being the slightest bit dramatic.  Not every moment is a struggle.  And of course I know she loves me. She plops herself down nicely on my lap to get her shoes on and she she loves to sit quietly and draw.  She dances and twirls around to the "ewebic" {that would be music}on my phone, and gives me kisses randomly and always when I ask.  She loves to laugh at the dog and walk around with a phone pretending to talk to Daddy.  She says "sahjee" {sorry} with the sweetest little pouty lip when I get her from Time Out and thinks it's hysterical to pretend to tickle herself.  She is all of this, more, and then some. 

It helps to write this after such a long day.  To process it, acknowledge it as normal toddler behavior, and focus on the highlights of our day.  Because in between the blood curdling screams and defiant, sassy "nopes", there are many, many highlights. 

And always, always, I can count on these at the end of even the roughest days.  Snuggles and lovins from my favorite girl. 

Oh hey. You must be the terrible twos.

My child sleeps.  Soundly and like the dead.  And since daylight savings time,  we've had wake-ups at 9:45, and 10:45.  I thought I had a toddler, not a teenager.

Speaking of teenagers, for a hot second today I would have rather been dealing with the "I hate yous" of teenage angst than the tantrums of the terrible twos.   Grass is greener, I know.  I know.

Seriously?  Totally giving me the stink eye. 

It was a day and a half around this house and tonight finds me feeling defeated.  It's not the first time.  And I know, trust me, I know--- it isn't the last.  Whoever tries to make motherhood look all easy and we bake cookies all day and do educational Pinterest rainy day crafts until the cows come home is full of it.  It isn't easy and I have no shame in admitting it.

Do we have days like that?  The cookie baking crafty kind?  Sure.  But no day is perfect and lately all seem to be infused with mass amounts of toddler drama and crazies. 

For the love, I am a child development major.  I haven known about the terrible twos and all the shit that goes with them long before becoming a mother.  No amount of schooling or babysitting could have prepared me for being deep in the trenches with my own child.  Basically as a single mother.  When Paul is home?  What a difference.  She is so much more manageable and pleasant.  Like that doesn't make me feel like a terd.  Like it's all me.  Womp womp.

Don't get me wrong.  Elena is my best friend.  She is funny, loveable, affectionate, engaging, silly, smart...I am obsessed with her and miss her the second she falls asleep.  We have a million wonderful moments in a given day.  Moments where I stand in awe of this amazing creature God has blessed me with.  So many more wonderfully awesome moments than the ones that have me ranting tonight.

Sparkles and unicorns right there, people.  Makes it all worth it. 

But those ugly moments need to be documented, too.  Motherhood isn't all sparkles and unicorns.  It's slaps across the face from your kid in Trader Joe's because she doesn't want you to have your hands on the grocery cart.  It's that sassy "nope" when you ask her to do something routine.  It's that red face of embarrassment you get when your adorable spawn is the only one in gymnastics that wants no part of the parachute and lets everyone within a ten mile radius know it with her screams. All of it and then some.

But you know what?  I'll take it.  Tomorrow is a new day.  I'm hoping for sparkles and unicorns, but will navigate the tantrums and crazies, come as they will.  No doubt. 

Bump update: Weeks 13-16

I promised myself I wouldn't slack when it came to documenting this pregnancy.  Despite feeling disconnected from writing lately {due in large part to ridiculous headaches I've been having} I've still kept up with my weekly bump pics and updates.  Finally getting around to posting them here.

Buh bye first tri, hello birfdays and barf.

The end of February came, went, and somehow turned into March.  Seems impossible.  Wasn't it just the start of the New Year? 

We've been busy around here, which I'm grateful for, since busy means that I'm actually participating in the human race.  Thank you, second trimester. 

I've resumed cooking dinner on the regular.  I actually put away the folded laundry instead of letting it sit in the basket.  I even brush my teeth as soon as I wake up.  And, most importantly, I've fired the trifecta of babysitters that were Sprout, Nick Jr., and Disney Channel.  Or "TeeTee" as we say in this house {TV}. Yes, there were some days it was all I could do to just lay on the couch and watch my girl play.  I'm so glad those days are in my rear view, although she still brings me the remote control when the TV is off.

The end of February also brought Paul's birthday.  He turned 36, which means we've officially spent half of our lives together. Talk about time flying.  18 years.  Wow.  Elena and I baked our first cake together.  She was such a great helper and loved sitting on the counter pouring in all of the ingredients. 

Signing Daddy's card.

Happy Birthday, Daddy 

 I wish I could say we ended the month on a high note.  No.  Elena came down with a stomach bug the day after Paul's birthday and threw up for the first time.  Oh.  My.  God.  It's something I knew was bound to happen, but it doesn't mean I was prepared.  All I can say is thank GOD Paul was home.  It's not the actual puke I mind.  It's seeing her sick and helpless and scared.  Having him home made us both feel better.  I will say that girlfriend made it nice and easy---she only projectile vomited in the kitchen and on me.  Honestly, I think I was more traumatized than her. Poor thing. 

When she woke up that morning I could tell she had a tummy ache.  She had an explosive poop the day before and the morning of she was super clingy and needy.  She wouldn't eat breakfast, wouldn't drink her milk and kept lifting her PJ top and making a sad face as if she was saying, "Mommy, my belly hurts."  I had a feeling in the back of my mind she might puke.  At about noon, she walked into the kitchen, where I was, and projectile puked 3 times.  I was so scared because I could tell she was scared.  I was screaming for Paul, who was locked in the master bath on a work call.  I'll spare you the pictures, because YES, there were pictures.  While I was still drenched in puke Paul decided to bust out the DSLR to start documenting her first puke.  All the while Lola was licking it up off of the floor.  I can't make this shit up.  She never puked again, thank goodness, but it took a good 2 days to get her back to herself.  Boy, I'm glad she's back. 

And I'm glad I'm back.  Back to feeling like me again.  March is gonna be a good one.