- The battle of the boss continues. My adversary is a mighty one. Yep. Go ahead, laugh. My battle for “who’s the boss” is with a two year old. Sad really. An example, on the way to Walmart:
Me: Mommy’s hungry. We’ll stop somewhere to eat before we go to Walmart.
Chloe: No! I wanna go ride the horsey at Walmart first.
Me: Well. We’re going to eat first.
Chloe: No. Horsey first! I’m the boss and I say horsey first!
Then she continues to repeat “horsey first” over and over as I drive. - I’ll be completely honest. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this terrible two thing before. Before the above conversation, she raised her voice at me about something else. I said back to her “Don’t you raise your voice and yell at me!” At that moment, I realized I was yelling at her. She’s getting it from me. Raising children is such a humbling experience. Earlier as I rocked the baby, I looked down at her beautiful face and told her I loved her. I prayed at that moment that I was doing right by her. What I mean is, sometimes I feel like I don’t give this baby near as much attention as I did Chloe. I let her cry unattended a lot more. So on one hand, I got a baby I feel like I’m neglecting, and on the other a toddler I feel like I’m making so many mistakes with!
- I drive to Walmart with my kiddos in the back, and my feelings of inadequacy riding shotgun. Once in Walmart, we head to Chloe’s favorite restaurant. We go once a week to McDonalds and it’s typically the one in Walmart. It’s at that moment that Chloe starts bawling because I got her an apple juice box instead of the talking cup featured on the high chair tray table (it doesn’t even exist!!) and the baby starts screaming at the top of her lungs (it is time for her to eat again already!!). I first grab Bailey from her carrier because her cry is a lot louder and easier to stop. She has liquid poop saturating the left side of her sleeper. I wrap her in a recieving blanket and go to exchange that darn juice box for a kid’s cup. I bring the cup back filled with orange soda and Chloe continues to cry since its not an animated talking cup like on the tray picture. I place a passy in Bailey’s mouth and retrieve the Happy Meal (which took 3 min and 30 precious seconds to cook). I prepare Chloe’s meal. Then I give my infant a baby wipe bath in our shopping cart, complete with a change of clothes. I don’t want to offend other patrons with my naked, poop stained kid, but the thought of dragging our entire set up with Chloe in a high chair eating nuggets to the diaper change station is too daunting. Once finished, I sit down to breastfeed Bailey in our little corner. As I watch Chloe, I remember I haven’t eaten yet. I’ll also add that my Dad called in the middle of it all. As I watched Chloe smile at me through French fries (like not a tear had fallen), I wondered how completely unprepared and ridiculous I sounded to my Dad or looked to the girls at the restaurant counter who were staring at me. It was also at that moment that I realized it didn’t really matter. I’ll just keep going, keep trying, keep growing. I’ll love my kids and do the best I can. Will I mess up? Yes. Will I give up? No. Will I still smile at the end of the day? Yeah. I’m smiling now. Despite it all, I am.
That is all 🙂