Whew! I am overwhelmed by the response I got from you on this post. By far the most common response was about how three years old is just a HARD HARD age. I laughed when I read how one of you said, “Seriously, three year olds are just evil!” But that empathy from all of you was like a giant hug, so refreshing. I came up thinking, “Maybe he’s not SO bad.”
And then today happened.
And I re-thought that last thought.
Last night 12:00 am: I am lying in bed, waiting for sleep to come. Suddenly and very strangely, I am overcome by extreme nausea and heartburn. I sit up and realize in about one minute I will be puking. I run to the bathroom and out it comes. It was really, really horrible. Mostly because most of my food has been digested by then and so the vomit was like 80% pure stomach acid. Which physically destroyed my throat.
I couldn’t fall asleep for hours after that, since the pain in the back of my throat was so intense. I still felt like there was something back there and every time I swallowed it was extreme pain all the way down. At 2 am, I took an antacid and some Tylenol and went to sleep on the recliner in the living room (so I could be sitting up somewhat.) I don’t know when I finally fell asleep, but I was awoken at 6 am by Will opening and closing his bedroom door (but not coming out for some reason) and Lucas crying.
I got Luke up and went to bed in my room. We frequently do this, since MOST of the time they can play harmlessly by themselves in the living room (which is like a few feet away from my bedroom.) An hour or so later, I woke up to Luke bawling, so I come out and see him completely drenched (like sopping wet) with Rice Crispies in his hair. And Will was at the sink filling up a cup of water. He’d decided it would be fun to pour cups of water over poor Lukey. And that was apparently after sprinkling Rice Crispies (which are on TOP of the fridge) all over the kitchen, dining room, and living room.
Here’s where we can all utter one collective *SIGH*. I am so past the point of exhaustion that I just stare at him, mind blank. What can I do? I can’t even muster the energy to yell or even get angry. So what did I do? I made him clean the living room and told him that since he made a bad choice, I had to take away his Froggy. You all know how attached he is to that ratty old thing. And then I got to spend the entire morning listening to him cry and wander around the house muttering “Froggy! Froggy!” as if he was an old man with dementia calling out his dead wife’s name. It was punishment for both of us.
Maybe I should have told him this instead:
So yes, another terrible day, another point for three-year-olds everywhere. But rest assured, mommys, we are not alone in our battle.But it’s good…actually GREAT–to know that so many of you can feel my pain. It gives me strength and courage to take on each day knowing that even though at some point I WILL feel like a failure of a mother, I’m not alone.
Motherhood is. So. Dang. Hard.
And I’d love to end this post by saying …but it’s so worth it! But right now those ‘worth it’ moments are far and few between. The only solace I have is knowing that I truly love my child enough to die rather than let someone hurt him and even at our hardest moments I could never wish him harm.
Because a mother’s love is overpowering and really surprises me at how strong it really is. And I thank God every single day for my beautiful and healthy children and can only pray to Him for the strength to continue caring for them.
Also thank goodness for nap time.
(All images minus the one of me are from my Pinterest boards. Click on the image to be taken to Pinterest.)