Mama Said There'd be Days Like This

People (our mothers, and everyone else on the planet who has reproduced and had a relatively positive experience with it) tell you that you will just love your children so much that it hurts.

True, in most cases.

What they fail to tell you, however, is that there WILL be times that you will also want to hurt THEM (the children, that is, not the loud-mouths in question, although the thought has crossed my mind...but that's another blog post). Today was one of those days. I went back and forth between feeling such strong feelings of love and affection for my daughter and such frustration with her that I almost developed whiplash. (Disclaimer: I did NOT at any point today harm my children. It will not be necessary for any readers to contact DFS, unless it's due to the current state of cleanliness of my house.)

She spent the day giving me hugs and kisses and saying hilarious things.

My heart swelled. I couldn't believe I was lucky enough to have given birth to this little ray of sunshine, and to have spent the past (almost) 5 years being her mommy.

And in the blink of an eye I would get a taste of what her teenage years are going to be like. Folks, it ain't gonna be pretty. There was yelling, screaming, whining, back-talking. And that was just from ME. Just kidding. It was all her. If I didn't get up immediately to get her a drink of water? Meltdown. We ran a few errands, including getting Connor's birthday pictures taken (only 3 weeks late). Well, that means a trip to Sonic (a little picture-taking tradition we've developed). She almost had a meltdown because I made them run the other errands first. Heaven forbid! (And yes, I did threaten not to get her the slush, in case you were wondering--I'm not a complete moron-mom.) Every time her brother touched her--you guessed it. Meltdown.

The child spent quite a bit of time in her room today. And I realize this is mostly our own doing, because we screwed up her sleep schedule this week. (But I also blame last night's storm!!)

Tonight at bed time, I was just about at the end of my rope. I had already tucked her in twice. She just kept getting out of bed! I didn't know what to do with her. I know I've used this metaphor before, but putting this child to bed is like playing a very delicate game of Whack-A-Mole. Unfortunately, I'm not actually allowed to bonk her on the head with a giant mallet. If I were, maybe she'd actually fall asleep.

And really, how can I get that mad when her reason for getting up the 3rd time was to tell me "Mommy, I love you"?

Although, I do suspect that she knows how to play me. She knew I would be upset, so she tried a preemptive strike. Well, it worked tonight, but it won't work again, missy! I'm onto your war tactics! Next time I won't fall so easily. Consider yourself warned! Tomorrow night, some Disney princess Barbies may become POWs...