Let me start off by saying I’m almost positive there are more then five people living in my house. Some days our house looks like the aftermath of a frat party and I just don’t even know where to begin. Some days I feel like cleaning is a lost between having fibromyalgia and the 3 tiny tornados leaving a path of destruction everywhere they go. Seriously where the hell did they get all of these toys from and how do they still have so many when I swore I threw like half of them away?!
My mom helps where she can while she watches the kids and my husband does what he can too but I’m pretty well known for wanting to take everything on myself and would most often prefer to keel over than ask for help. I mean really if I could have the house to myself for one whole day it would look immaculate, at least until the tornados were unleashed again.
Some nights once the kids are all in bed I come out and actually get a lot done, I think I have come to terms with the fact that I will never get all of the laundry put away though. It’s amazing how much clothes a family of five owns. There are some days where it really gets to me and others where I’m just like whatever. I know one day the kids will be grown and the house will empty and easier to maintain. I’m sure there will be times where I will long for the days of toys and gogurt tubes I find behind the couch pillows, okay maybe not the gogurts but you get where I’m going with this. Until then I will do my best to stay one step ahead of the monsters and maybe even do better at assigning duties and sharing the workload, maybe.
My life is generally a mix of stress and chaos, not that I’m complaining that’s just the way it is and pretty much always has been. Honestly I don’t think I would know how to function as a normal adult with a more easy going life. One thing I try and do is look back each week and pick a moment or two that made me happy and I think that is what keeps me going.
This past Sunday I decided I needed more things to do that I enjoy. I think sometimes as a wife, mom, and person who works outside the home we forget about ourselves and to do things that we actually want to do. So I watched a YouTube video (thanks Sierra Schultzzie) and drug my kids and mom out to the craft store so I could buy everything I need to make my own Minnie Ears. Minnie Ears are probably one of my favorite things, I have to get a new pair every time we go to Disneyland and even have friends get them for me when they go (you should my hallway). That day I started on them and so far have made two pairs and they don’t look too bad! Once I get more confident in my abilities I plan to sell them on Esty but in the mean time I just really enjoy making them. I have even had a few people request I make them some so I must be doing something right!
Although something like making ears isn’t huge in the grand scheme of things, it’s just enough to look back on and say “hey this week wasn’t all terrible” and give me hope that maybe next week won’t be all that bad either.
You always hear about the terrible twos and the trying threes but my god they have nothing on the fucking fours. There’s no doubt that two and three year olds can be a handful, they can definitely throw fits with the best of them. However, what I’ve learned this last year is that four is what nightmares are made of.
Now don’t get me wrong, there are some pretty amazing things that come with have a four year old. They can tell you what they want, they can be easier to take out in public, and they are so full of life and wonder. On the flip side of they that, they can tell you what they want and there will be hell to pay if they don’t get it. They also don’t have a total grip on their emotions which on some days is a recipe for disaster. I have never seen anyone hit just about every emotion until the day I told Ukiah he couldn’t come with me to check the mail without pants (Am I the only one who’s kid hates clothes?) He cried, got angry, finally realized he wasn’t going to win the argument, put on pants and starts skipping out the door laughing like nothing had happened.
Some days are harder than others, some days I question whether or not I’m actually the most stubborn person in this house. Having a strong willed child isn’t all bad at least not until they want nothing more than to argue. I swear some days he sees the inside of his room more than the rest of the house. There’s a fine line between not breaking your child’s strong will and not taking their shit. We need strong adults in this world but we also need them to be respectful and well mannered.
Sometimes I think it’s just me and I’m just failing at this whole parenting thing. Some days I feel awful because I feel like all I’ve done is send him to his room or yell. Then I hop on Facebook to chat with my birth board besties and realize we’re all going through the same thing, I find comfort in that.
Four isn’t all bad, he’s a great helper, insanely inquisitive, and unapologetically dances to beat of his own drum. He’s a free spirit and I love that about him. Although I am so ready to get past this stage, I’m sure some day I will look back and miss these days. I will also use them to laugh at him when he has his own four year old. You know what they say about payback 😉