Two gets me everytime

Before I get to the photos of where we went on Saturday, can I just confess something to you?

Just between us, okay? You can't look at me sideways at church, email or call me and ask me if I'm okay, or really think less of me in general, okay? Deal?

Sometimes, I don't really like my two year olds.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE them every day. It's just that somedays I don't like them. And I don't think it's specific to the two year olds that I currently call mine. I remember when another dynamic duo was two and, somedays, I didn't like those two year olds either. Love them so much my heart might explode? Yes. Like them? Notsomuch.

Why are we Moms afraid to admit that there are just some ages that we are not so good at dealing with? I mean, I can handle a crying infant. I can handle it for long periods of time with little-to-no end in sight. I can rock and swing and walk and snuggle an upset baby for the majority of most days. I can handle the sleepless nights and the constant feedings.

But give me a defiant, overly dramatic, completely irrational two year old, who can't adequately articulate what he/she wants to say and then flies into a furry of pissed-offness because I can't understand his/her words...well, it's more than I can handle when it consumes my life every other 5 minutes.

I look at my sweet little Ella and wonder how many more months I have of her awesomeness until that day hits and the two year oldness begins. I'm praying for her to go straight from 16 months to 3 years. I'm doubting that's a providential prayer.

Yesterday was a rough day with my two little two year olds. I love them more than I could ever put into words but yesterday, I didn't like them very much. The irrationalness of throwing a fit because I won't allow a 2nd cup of juice and flinging a body on the floor because I won't allow coloring on the cabinets crawls all over me. As a coping mechanism I ignore irrational behavior and casually step over whomever is writhing on the floor in complete agony because I'm a mean Mom who refuses to allow you to play with the electrical socket.

And while I'm busy dealing with constant meltdowns, I'm wondering how Christlike I am to these irrational, overly dramatic tiny people on a daily basis. I mean, I try so, so, so hard to put myself in their size 5 shoes. I try to think about how hard it must be for them to try to tell me something that they want or need and yet I just can't understand. I try to understand that, often, they have to wait a few minutes and waiting isn't easy for a person with no concept of time or the needs of others. But my frustration level with them is easily increased, much to my ill attempts at keeping my heart and head in check. I've prayed prayers of patience, asking God to fill in the gaps of my humanness and supersede my shortcomings when I feel that tightening in my core because I just can't deal with another meltdown right now.

But most days, I don't really rely on Him to provide me with grace. Most days I just allow the anger and frustration to wash over me and I fly into a sea of redundancy allowing wave after wave after wave of meltdowns to overtake me. And then I lose it.

See? If any of you thought that I had it all together you can now rest assured that I am not at all together. In fact, if together was ever a word you used to describe me then you can purposefully never combine that word with your thoughts of me.

It's just that these two little folks who are obviously going through a phase and thistooshallpass seem to intentionally do the exact things they know they will get a consequence for.

And it drives me bananas.

I'm not suppose to slam the door and you tell me that every.single.day? Oh good.

SLAM THE DOOR! SLAM THE DOOR! SLAM THE DOOOOOR!!!

I'm not suppose to open and shut, open and shut, open and shut the kitchen cabinets? Oh good.

OPEN AND SHUT OPEN AND SHUT OPEN AND SHUT OPEN AND SHUT!

It's not okay for me to play with 3 specific toys that are set aside and out of reach and only for the older kids? Oh look!

I CAN SCALE THE BOOKSHELF AND JUST TOUCH SAID TOY WITH MY ITTY BITTY FINGER UNTIL IT FALLS AND THEN I HIDE AND PLAY WITH IT.

I mean, seriously?! There aren't many things that they are restricted from. I learned that lesson quickly with our first set of two year olds. I choose my battles and make very few things off limits in our home. Toys and play are free and easily managed by these little toddling persons. I mean, afterall, it's their house too and they shouldn't be scolded every 5 seconds just for living. But there are boundaries and there are a small number of toys that they are not allowed to play with. But it seems that is exactly what they want to do.

You know, exactly what they aren't allowed to.

Oh how it drives me crazy. And every time a child of ours comes into this age I forget that two year olds are like this and it blows my mind all over again.

So do me a favor, will you? When Ella hits about 17 months old, will you remind me that her twoness is just around the corner? Hopefully it won't take me by surprise like it has 5 other times. Hopefully.

And if you are a superstar at parenting a two year old, I could use a tip or prayer or two three.

Monday, Monday

Wow. Today has been a MON-DAY.

Baby Girl has therapy on Monday mornings and when the therapist showed up I was half dressed and still brushing my teeth.

At lunch, Aaron decided he only wanted apples and yogurt for lunch. Which works out fine except that he likes to swallow all foods completely whole. That works well for yogurt. Notsomuch for apple slices.

Finally, at naptime Lucas decided that he was afraid of his room because of dinosaurs, then zebras, then hungry wolves.

So, I decided to let him rest with Elizabeth while I got some much needed housework blogging done. Instead of napping the two of them played and giggled and ultimately broke Lucas' most prized possession. A "Spirit" horse statue.

Insert massive freak out by Lucas.

He is currently screaming at/for me from his bedroom. I am praying he finally falls asleep so that he won't be a screaming-banshee-terror-child later.

Sigh.

Is it Friday yet?

Stay tuned this week because I am super excited about an amazing Giveaway I have scheduled for Wednesday!

That is, unless Lucas' room continues to be invaded by gorillas or zebras or crocodiles or....

Frustration

I am seriously frustrated with the situation with Baby D. Like usual, I cannot go into much detail, but I can tell you that I personally don't think the parents are being held accountable enough and it bugs the crap out of me! The good thing is, I have some very Christ like friends (one in particular) who loves me for who I am (even though I never call her back) and she constantly reminds me that I am not in control, the social workers aren't either. God is. I serve the Creator of the universe. He loves me and desires the best for me. That is my mantra and I will repeat it with each breath.

Kick That To The Curb

Nothing frustrates me more than car troubles. Why is it that I allow so much anger, frustration and hatred creep into my heart over nothing more than a pile of plastic and metal? Two Friday's ago we dropped our van off at a local auto shop. We knew it needed some serious work because it is continuing to leak coolant and overheat. After keeping our car all day, I called at 5:00pm (closing time, on Friday, remember?) and asked if it was ready to be picked up. The gentleman explained to me the problem and told me it was at least a 6 hour job and that they wouldn't be able fix it that day. I told him I needed the car as it is the only vehicle we have that our entire family can ride in. We went to pick it up and were going to return it the following week.

Our schedules didn't allow us to drop it back off yesterday (Monday). They worked on it all day yesterday (never called me, not once) and when I called at 5:15pm to see if it was ready, they told me that the needed to keep it until the morning. The gentleman assured me it would be done 1st thing this morning.

Elizabeth also had a dentist appointment this morning. So, the plan was for Luke to take her to the dentist (which is literally 10 min from his work) and I would go get the van and meet him there to pick her up, hopefully eliminating the need for him to drive all the way back home, then back to work (roughly 1 hours worth of driving). I called the auto shop at 8:15am, only to be told it would be at least 1 1/2 hours. Great. I took a shower and loaded the twins in the stroller, I was determined to be there promptly at 9:30, hoping my presence would light a fire underneath them.

I left my house a little after 9:00am and walked, yes you read that right, walked the almost 2 miles to the auto shop. We get there just after 9:30. I wait patiently...only to be told it that there was a new problem w/ our car and it would be another 30-45 minutes. Uuuuugggggghhhhhh!!!!!!

Luckily, there is a coffee shop just around the corner. The twins and I head there, hoping to grab a quick snack.

TWO HOURS LATER, I call the auto shop, where I am told that my vehicle is finally ready. In those 2 hours, I got no phone call explaining that it is taking longer than expected, telling me that the job had to be pushed back, nothing. As the twins, Elizabeth (b/c Luke had dropped her off at this point, so he could go to work) are walking from the coffee shop back to the auto shop I am praying that my blood will stop boiling. I am asking God for peace. I know that the owner of the shop is a Christian b/c of previous interactions. I know that I do not need to be rude, but accept this misfortune with grace, showing Christ's love for everyone in my actions.

What I wanted to say was, "This is ridiculous! Can't you see that I have been waiting for this car for almost 36 hours? My family can't go anywhere! I WALKED here w/ my two 2-year olds and you didn't even have the decency to speed things up?"

However, I asked all three kids to thank the man for fixing our car. I knew that this poor guy had lost his teenage son just over a year ago. I heard him talking about his children to other people in the shop, and I knew that the LAST thing he needed was a piece of my mind.

Trust me, I wanted to let him have it, but by there sheer grace of God, I held my tounge. It made me realize that the next time, I may not know the background of the person I'm dealing with . Instead of being so critical, I should accept things for what they are, and try to show Christ's love thru my actions.

You know, I REALLY love God, but sometimes, being His servant is so hard. Now, if I could only erase the anger in my heart I'll be moving in the right direction.