A Moment

Our relationship has been tough lately. You are growing up so fast, hurtling towards 3 at a breakneck pace. You can do it, you want to do it, everything, anything in your own way, on your own terms.

You listen. I know you hear me. I know you understand. You are smart, very smart. Your brain processes the information and chooses to do the opposite, sometimes in outright defiance, sometimes because you feel your way is better.

The word no, or any correction in behavior brings forth a storm. You immediately lash out, hitting, biting, kicking or looking for something to destroy. I am the frequent target, it's only natural given how much time we spend together.

There are times I wonder if I am helping or hurting the situation. I know how to calm you, it could be so easy to soothe you and move on with our day. But often exhaustion and frayed nerves win out, I have to make a point. You will have a time out. You will finish it, even if it takes all night.

So here we are, both of us warily circling the other like boxers looking for a weakness. Time that could be spent playing is spent fighting, trying to win control of the situation. It's exhausting and it does not bring out the best in either of us. Resentments creep in. You run to daddy. I gravitate towards Bunny.

Just when I am ready to throw in the towel, it happens. On one of our many visits to Starbucks, you fling yourself into my lap, climbing up to make yourself comfortable. A finger goes into your mouth. The other hand reaches for my ear. You are calm.

I relax. The breath I was holding waiting for a tantrum is expelled. I see you, the real you. I press my face into your forehead. Tears prick my eyes. I whisper silent prayers seeking forgiveness.

How could I have ever doubted you? How could I have ever doubted myself? You own my heart.

Broken Hearts and Bee Stings

Let's just get this out there, I do not like bugs. Insects, arachnids and their bretheren just creep me the hell out.

I can admire them for the engineering marvels that they are. I mean how the heck do those bumble bees fly and the spiders spin those amazing webs? But that is the extent of my good feelings towards the creepy crawling, hopping and flying little buggers goes.

But yesterday my feelings towards bugs took an interesting turn.

Bunny is in love with Miss Spider's Tea Party by David Kirk. She requests the book all the time and even "reads" it in bed. Needless to say she was over the moon when we discovered the Miss Spider show on Noggin. As far as she is concerned this show should be on a constant loop at our house.

I like the show too. Good animation and the cute little bugs teach good stories about how to treat others. As far as I am concerned these cartoon bugs are the only bugs I like.

Until yesterday. Yesterday I was cursing David Kirk and whoever green lit the cartoon. They caused me to break my daughter's heart.

Bunny was over tired at naptime. She did not want to sleep, all she wanted to do was watch Miss Spider. And I wouldn't let her until after she took a nap. But she wouldn't sleep. All I heard were repeated requests to watch Miss Spider over the monitor.

After listening to this for over almost an hour an a half, it was clear there would be no nap. So, begrudginly, I retreived her from her room. Bunny thought this meant she could watch Miss Spider. But I did not want to give in so I put my foot down and said no.

This caused a major over tired breakdown. Bunny started sobbing with tears streaming down her face. "Please momma. Please watch Miss Spider momma. I said please momma." Her heart was breaking and so was mine. She asked so politely, it was all she wanted. But I was mean and would not give in.

I know this was the best thing for her but her tired little brain could not wrap itself around this. All she knew was that her mother was denying her the only thing in the world she wanted. I felt terrible.

But her heartbreak was short lived, mine was not. She was diverted by grapes and juice and the promise of the pool. As I watched her splashing in the pool and running through the sprinkler I thought about how I'd let her down. I thought about the many times I would let her down in the future and my heart broke some more.

It was about that time when I saw a wasp buzzing around the backyard. I started freaking out. Of all the bugs, I hate the stinging kind the most. I had these terrible visions of Bunny being stung, of having to take her to the emergency room, of, well, even more horrible things than that.

I knew I couldn't let her get hurt but I didn't want to drag her away from the pool and disappoint her once again. So I kept an eye on the wasp. I even positioned myself between her and the wasp, thinking he wouldn't come near the water. Right? Wrong. Apparently he was thirsty and thought the puddles near the pool were a nifty place to hang out. Yikes.

So I, in my bug fearing brain, knew I needed to get her out of there. I knew she'd see the wasp and want to go in for a better look. I was afraid her movements would spook the wasp and . . . well not good. So I wrapped her in a towel and took her in the house.

After a few squawks of protest, she was happily watching Miss Spider in the living room. Her heart was content. And mine was healed by a icky stingy wasp who reminded me what was important.

Some Days

Some days you wake up at the crack of dawn.

Some days nothing goes right. A trip to the beach breaks down into a whinefest because there is yucky smelly seaweed along the shore. A trip to the grocery store turns into a full blown tantrum. Meal time becomes a battleground.

Some days you are so mind numbingly tired that you put your shirt on inside out. And when you finally notice and go to turn it right side out you realize that you are not in your home but on the street on the way to the park. Your brain is so hazy that you think its logical to change it in the park bathroom until the scent reminds you not to. So you don't change and you climb into bed still wearing that same inside out shirt.

Some days your toddler decides not to nap.

Some days you are so soul crushingly tired that you close the door to the bathroom so you don't have to cry in front of your toddler.

Some days your toddler is so cranky that she will throw a toy across the room and in the very next breath sob because she wants it back.

Some days you yell at your husband when he calls from the store that you sent him to because he is not here to help.

Some days your body just aches and you are asleep before your head hits the pillow.

But then some days you get to sleep in to 7:30. And you are greeted with a smile so bright that it could power the entire city for a month. Some days you know are going to be better.