Dear friends, family, regular visitors, lurkers and thoughtful commenters,
I don’t want to be a negative blogger. I want to be fun(ny). I want to be profound (if only on occasion). I want to be clever, and judging by my attempt at an alliterative title… I care not whether certain words are actually words. One thing is certain, I am pretty honest about the whole “motherhood thing”. I am not the mom I thought I’d be… nor the mom I want to be… but I love my kids. I just never thought I would consider “time in an institution” a desired “getaway”. They say children change a person… who knew?
Where am I going with this?
Oh. My daughter. Oh. My. Daughter. She’ll be three in March. “Therribly Three”, and I am already nearly at Mercy’s end. I breathe out. I smile. I coo and give her clear choices. She pushes and pulls and tries to steer and direct and move the tide in a direction the tide has never gone. She’s trying to break the Levee (a.k.a. ME)…
What’s an adult woman to do? I am a grown woman. My word. I just want to get from “Point A” to “Point B”. There are no letters between “A” and “B”, unless you’re nearly 3. What’s with the blank stare? Hello. I know her legs are much shorter than mine, but is it possible for ANY human to walk THAT slow!!!???
Mercy. Mercy! The intensity is, well… intensifying. I find myself feeling frantic, not unlike the feeling of being taken down by a wave. You see it coming and you rush to dive under before it breaks, but there is just not enough time. It breaks right on you, and you start tumbling. There is little you can do but hold your breath and swim up once it’s passed. Sometimes, you get scraped up and and water gets up your nose. Sometimes you lose your boogie board…
Today, I don’t feel ready to parent this child. I don’t feel I am able to parent the way I know I should. The way I want to. I feel like there has been wave after wave after wave, and I just can’t make it to shore. I just need a moment to dry off my face, get the sand outta my shorts, eat a sandwich, drink a can of Coke, and put some vinegar on the jellyfish sting.
Not so much. This is real life, and as sure as the sun rises, so will She. So will I… all banged up. Isn’t it amazing how that love-thing works?
Sounds like you might need a tropical drink with an umbrella after a wave like that.
I know this is so cliche, but wow those years flew by me way too fast. Good luck through the big ones, may littler ones be behind what feels currently like a Tsunami.
Lisa
Three was the worst so far. My daughter is 5.5. I will tell you the only good wisdom I’ve heard about that age. A friend told me, and I wish it too, that I had hugged my daughter more. Just hold them.
They love you so much, and vice versa. It’s easy to get caught up in the dragging them along on errands and making them go to bed and get up and come eat and clear your plate and brush your hair and… you forget to hug them. At least I did. Anyway 4 was better! Hugs!
I am right there with you sister. My youngest is three and there are days I just want to run away. My oldest was never like this, testing lets call it.
Good luck!
Take a deep breath and say to yourself, “This is the last time I will have to endure this. When this is done, I can laugh at Jen trying to wrangle her red-headed terror. Repeat as needed.
That or we could just lock Selby and Lucy in a room and let them go til the death…kind of a preschool Thunderdome. But wait, they might start plotting against us…
Whoa girl….I’m feelin for you! Wish I had something insightful to share, but I think I was still medicating during my 3’s, so close together an all. Oh…here’s one….I think I heard it before at something called Mops. “Remember to describe your child’s behavior in a positive way, like, “yes…she sure is willful, rather than negative like….yeah she sure is a stubborn, cantankerous, manipulative little spirit killer.”
Whatever. love you.
Preschool Thunderdome - that’s great…
When my daughter was four, we had power struggles. I remember kneeling beside her, knowing that I had to stick to my guns, that it was a small thing, but that I couldn’t give up. We were both crying, and yet this fierce little girl was ready to take on the world.
She still is. She’s 24 now. That same trait that seemed like a weakness is her greatest strength as a woman. I look back (thank God for hindsight) and I see that I had an opportunity to shape that strong will for good, or for bad. I wish I had had a video camera back then that would have showed me the strong friendship I have with my grown daughter, the fierceness that is now aimed at helping children overcome abuse (she’s a counseor), and the ways that all of her character traits turned out to be amazing.
Hang tight, mom. : ) She sounds like a potential leader.
I have sooo felt like posting this same post. My oldest turned 14 today! OMG- I am sooo not old enough to be the parent of a 14 year old…and sometimes the waves seem never ending…It’s a good thing i’m a good swimmer!
I loved Suzannes hindsighte..”her weakness is her greatest strength as a woman.” My daughters are VERY independant, and i’m sure that will be their biggest asset as adults.