I thought that the other day. That my head was going to explode. I thought, “well, this is it. it’s been a good run. unfortunately any second my head’s going to pop off and that will be the end of me.” it didn’t. I lived to see another day, change another diaper, and survived yet another public meltdown (those are just the MOST fun).
people ask me constantly how I do it, and I have to say, not that well. I don’t do it very well. at least that’s how I feel on any normal day. I usually end the days sitting on the kitchen chair in defeat and imagining what it will look like when my head finally explodes.
no job is perfect and motherhood, a blessing that it is, is one of the hardest. my bosses are about 3 feet tall and are constantly handing me poop. they make noises that no ears should be subjected to, and they make these noises for HOURS straight. they have the uncanny ability to destroy anything (mainly things that are mine) within seconds. they have no grip on reality or their emotions (okay so we both share that trait).
I am not one to break easy. I’ve never been a crier. but these little midgets can break your sanity one meltdown at a time. sometimes I try to explain to matt why that particular day was so hard and I have a hard time putting it into words. saying, “stella wouldn’t nap and Lincoln rode his bike too fast” sounds so silly in the aftermath. but at the time, when non-napping stella is screaming and lincoln is tearing around the store like a drunk monkey on a little red trike crashing into my Oh-so-Carefully-Created jewelry displays I feel my neck start to tighten and all I can think of is imploding.
I’ve been thinking lately that I need a zen button. or a punching bag. or a wine of the month club membership. I need something. I just haven’t figured out what it is yet. Matt constantly reminds me that these next few years will be the hardest, the biggest challenge of our life. and it will be. and I know that it will be worth it, that these years of no sleep, no free time, eating cold food and drinking cold coffee because life got in the way-is worth it. and that the true challenge isn’t not going crazy (though that’s part of it) but making sure I’m a good mom. making sure they each get enough face time. and quality time. and feel happy and content at the end of the day. that they have manners, and skills, and style. well, maybe that last one isn’t so important. 😉
it may seem hard to believe but I’m way less stressed this year than I was last year. lincoln’s tantrums used to have me in tears. make me think I was a horrible mother and that no one else’s child ever threw a fit. i would drag him from playdates, both of us crying (well me once we got out of earshot of the other moms) now when stella throws herself into walls at a playdate I kind of shrug and sip my coffee. she will forget that someone took her crayon and stop crying eventually. and she does. you would think that more kids would equal more stress, but that’s not it really. jack’s a pretty mellow guy. he was busy staring at a table leg for over an hour the other day. he rarely cries.
so, I just can’t put my finger on what it is that pushes me over the edge from slightly annoyed to spontanoues combustion. it’s not the extra kid. it’s not going to work with them. maybe it’s the noise. the lack of sleep. the amount of poop. the smell of poop. the lack of free time (my special alone time is going to the grocery store, and that’s just sad.) the lack of showers or chance to get dressed in peace. maybe it’s stepping on mushy banana. wait…in fact, I know it’s stepping on mushy banana. that’s what puts me over the edge. finding mushy banana EVERYWHERE. so if mushy banana makes me want to explode then what keeps me from doing so?
jack smiling. jack smiling at lincoln. lincoln saying, “hey mom? mom? i wuv you. i wuv YOU!” (at this last line he usually points at me similar to the posters of Uncle Sam pointing. I Want You! style.) stella laughing. jack burrowing his head in my neck and sniffing. lincoln running to work while shouting, “i’m a super fast guy!” lincoln telling me to ‘GO REALLY FAST’ crash the car because it’d be ‘REALLY FUN’. stella’s serious face. stella dancing. basically anything they say as long as they don’t shout or scream it. how stella always tells herself, “good job baby” when she’s done something hard. lincoln introducing the family to anyone and everyone we meet. (lincoln to a random lady at starbucks, “this is our new baby jack! and thats our other baby stella!”)
that being said, I’m only human. and as much as I love them and as funny as they are I’m sure either tonight or the next night I will find myself sitting at the kitchen table. head in my hands, will see stella standing at the door to her room. probably licking the glass panes and shoving the clean laundry out the cat door. and will listen to lincoln shout for “mowr milk!” or “cover me up” or any of the other number of stalling tatics he has to avoid falling asleep, he acts like he lives at the holiday inn and shouts demands from the comfort of his bed. it will probably be about 7:37pm. and I will want to cry. but then I will buck it up and put stella back in bed for the 100th time. and when I am walking out she will probably say something like, “good job baby.”