Elizabeth suddenly entered the terrible twos this week. Butter in Derek’s coffeemaker. Dumped out all her tiny choking hazard elastic bands on the floor right in front of Susie. Emptied half a brand-new container of clorox wipes into the toilet. Got into the fridge and ate the tips off of a bunch of strawberries. Got into the hand lotion I’d bought for our stocking for a soldier and spread it all over herself, her clothes, and a bunch of toiletries for the stocking. Dropped her sunflower seed butter and jelly sandwich on the kitchen floor and ground it in with her heel. Tore open the granola bars for the soldier stocking, and when my back was turned, egged Tommy on to cut the tags off the baseball cap I’d bought for our Operation Christmas Child shoebox. Whereupon I announced tartly that it was quiet rest time and everyone had better wash their hands and get into bed. At which point she pooped in her panties and sat down on the potty, smearing it everywhere, and wiping it up with the hand towel. This was all in under five hours.
By the time everyone was down for naps and the poopy clothes were in the washer, my sinus headache had grown to a full-blown throbbing body ache. I just had enough energy to cry out to God, “Please help me. I can’t keep doing this!” What a way to start a week that will have Derek gone Tuesday evening for a candidate dinner and out of town Wed-Sat for a conference in DC. One or two instances of severe naughtiness in a day don’t phase me anymore. It’s the cumulative effect (plus fall colds) that knocks me off kilter. (The afternoon included incidents with a pencil sharpener, the toilet bowl brush, the rest of the clorox wipes, more poop, an overripe banana, stickers, and two more wardrobe changes.) Several times lately, I’ve been so tempted to just shout, “I’m done! This is too much!” Rachel Jankovic recently had a great post on this whole phenomenon. She notes,
I think it is common to have this mental ideal of what your days as a mother are supposed to be like. We think that if we were doing it right, then it wouldn’t be this hard. Of course there are a lot of ways to improve what we do, that make things easier. But it is like improving the form of a runner. They still have to run in order to use it. It still won’t be easy. You can continue training to the point that you are no longer puking in the bushes and all red in the face by the end of the first block, but you aren’t ever going to take the running out of the running.
She’s great at reminding me that right now, motherhood is instrumental in my sanctification. I keep thinking I’ve been at this for almost five years and shouldn’t be surprised by anything now, but I guess I have a lot more growing to do!
Oh, Emily! Lizzie sounds like my Liam…pushing the limits to the max! He is entering the “terrible two’s” a few months early. :/ I will be thinking about you and praying for a peaceful day for you and your sweet children.
A friend of mine once said, “I would be a great mother if it weren’t for my kids!” True for me on most days! 🙂