Daily stress
This morning I woke up feeling great ready to start the day. Even though the 2 year old had an accident in the middle of the night, I was still feeling good. It was 7AM and the creatures were just stirring. If I had known that things would drastically change, I would have frozen that moment in time.
Suddenly all 3 girls were up and I made the rounds to greet them with kisses and a “Good Morning.” The 2 year old decided to have an accident in our bed too, so now that meant two beds to strip and change. I decided to hop in the shower. Within minutes, my shower was interrupted by the 2 year old whining about something. When I peeked out of the shower curtain, I saw she had managed to remove half of the laundry from the basket in order to find the brand new dress that she had slept in the night before. It didn’t survive the accident and needed to be washed. And although I tried to explain this again and again, the 2 year old was insistent on wearing again. I sighed…it was the least of my worries, because then the middle child chimed in.
The middle child was going through her normal Wednesday transition temper tantrum. I can’t say I blame her, but she never approaches it right. It always comes across as whining and moaning and screaming and just completely irritates the hell out of me. This morning, she was having a fit about her phone (don’t even ask, IMO she shouldn’t have one). The 2 year old didn’t feel like hearing her either, and proceeded to hit the middle child in the head with a pinwheel. This quickly escalated into a screaming match.
After I defused the situation, the middle child asked me to help her fix her phone. Since it was now quarter after seven , I couldn’t. I needed to get lunches and snacks packed. Obviously that did not concern her, so after a 5 minute fit, I took her to the bedroom for a time out. Luckily I regained my composure and stopped yelling long enough to get the truth out of her. She just wanted me to stay home and be with her all day today. Heartbreaking.
The biggest child, who had been quiet most of the morning, saw an opening for her moment to pipe in. But I do give her credit since her complaint was mild in comparison to her sisters’. She was upset because the french braid that was in her hair for a day did not turn out as expected. I tried explaining that her needed to be wet while making the braid, but she told me I was wrong. I stopped talking at that point.
Through all of this, my husband and I were trying to smile at each other and make jokes in light of the situation. Thankfully or this morning would have been even worse. It was now 7:45 and my mother was at the house to help. The 2 year old was still in her pee dress, the oldest child was trying to fix her hair, and the middle child wasn’t dressed. I should have been on my way to the car at this point, but I wasn’t. And so once again I was late for work. I wish I could say this was atypical. I wish I could say I had that I had the answers and that my mornings would never be like this again. All I know is that something has got to give….
