I just got both children into bed for afternoon naps. Emma is sleeping, Mary is still chatting. And I was sitting down to vent about how tough it is to be the mother of a three and a half year old. But, I’m feeling pressure to get downstairs and deal with the mess–lunch dishes, laundry piles to be folded, mail spilled on the floor, toys, emma’s half-finished glue projects…Instead I’ll post a picture of a monarch butterfly that I found on a bush at my mother-in-law’s house yesterday. I was out there beating off the bees, crouched in the bush, waiting for it to open its wings for a good shot. I got one shot of open wings, but in the end liked this one the best.
I will save my vent for my husband when he comes home, but will just say now, for my own mental relief, that being a mother of a three and a half year old is hard. I love her. I adore her. I think she is creative and funny and intriguing. But, today is just one of those days–on the floor-screaming temper-tantrum in the grocery store, complete defiance at nap time, unnecessary messes at lunch, lack of kindness to her little sister. Everything must be on her terms, no does not mean no, but "well, can I LATER?", dramatic sighing and displays of temper….I wonder sometimes who is having the bad day–me or her? Do I just lack my usual level of patience or is she having an unusually disobedient day?
Well, my downstairs is calling, so I will give my own version of a dramatic sigh now," ahhhhh" and move on with a better attitude. A little cleaning is good for the soul. (Oh, and both children napping is good too…)