If patience were a bank account I would be severely over drafted this month. Seriously. In this match up toddler is winning and it's no fun for anyone.
A while ago, I got one of those chain emails from a Mom in my parents group. Something like 'The Toddler's Creed' (probably written by some Grandma lady who just wanted to make Mom's feel like crap because she was so far removed from being in the MIDST of holding her sh*t together that she forgot how hard it is!) But I digress. So this big lengthy poem thing is basically saying that parents hurry their toddlers from here to there, to brush teeth, to get out the door etc.. and toddlers just want to enjoy their surroundings and take it all in, just be. Great thanks for the fabulous chain email, that sure makes me feel like an even BETTER Mom.
At our house we get the girls up (or Kate has been up since 6:15 watching some horrible Barney type show that she put on herself) and get breakfast going. Thankfully most mornings eating is not a problem. The SPEED at which these things happen however is.
I think about this poem when I'm trying in a fun sing songy voice to get Kate to hurry up and put her shoes on so we can get to the car because we're late for the crazy drop the car at the carpool/drop the child at school with Daddy who then walks to bus/drop the other child at daycare/mommy tries to get to work early enough that leaving at 5 doesn't make me look like a slacker morning routine. Thanks a lot stupid chain email poem, now I'm late AND I feel like I'm ruining my daughter's childhood.
But seriously, I swear that toddlers have this innate sense to know when you NEED to be in the car 5 minutes ago and take that time to dance naked in their room pretending to look for underwear or can ONLY have that one headband that you haven't seen in a month and then completely freak out and melt down when you say 'please, I cant' ask again, we need to get going.' So then there's that whole screaming, crying, refusing to walk to the car unless if only in a straight line with three hops in the middle. Then throw in some sympathy wailing from little sister. I can't take it. I CANNOT TAKE IT. I see why parents swatted their kids rears when we were little. I need to perfect the arched eyebrow like my Mom or the deep one word utterance from my Dad that still makes me get get all shaky. It's called fear, um I mean, respect and my kids don't have it.
So when will this battle end? Ever? All I can see is teenager years looming and I'm really scared because I can barely handle this! I think I need to find some class on psychological warfare for mornings with small children. Do you think they offer that? Because the patience thing? It's just not working for me.
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Wow - this could've been written by me (well, except not nearly as clever and probably with a lot more profanity). We're having the almost EXACT issues with Lila, except she is just 5 minutes past 3. Every morning when I drop Grace and Lila off at preschool/before school care, Lila literally has had to be pulled off of me, then starts banging on the windows at the door and screaming "BYE MOMMY". Nothing like starting your morning off with a good sob and an almost hypnotic desire to find a pub and throw a few back before getting to the office. If you find this magical class on morning warfare, please let me know - I'll be the second one to sign up.
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