Can you wait, maybe five seconds?
Before I get into this... I want to express that I LOVE my daughter. Very much. She's my entire world and all of my days revolve around her (INCLUDING the ones where she is staying at Nana's or Nan's for the weekend).
There are days, like today, where I wish that she was still small enough that she couldn't speak. It's the incessant "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy. Mom, I want, mommy, I want, can I have, mommy..." that doesn't allow time enough for me to even respond that makes me absolutely bonkers.
Now, I understand that she's almost three and has so many interesting and exciting things to say, and that the world is full of things just waiting for my gloriously intelligent daughter to articulate them to me-usually in astounding detail and in a rush of words that you really have to pay attention to in order to catch them at all. Then, there are days like today that make me really just want to pull my hair out. Let me illustrate the situation for you:
It was lunch time and so, of course, Kalen begins the ten minute ritual of discussing with me (in detail) what she wanted to eat for lunch. After a moments' debate, she settled with herself over the idea of a hotdog. *Bad Mommy Moment* I said okay. Now normally, I would prompt her to have something else with it, like some carrots or some crackers and some salad. Something. But I didn't, like a bad mommy, because my back hurts in a way I can't even begin to describe. But this isn't about me; it's about the way we got to my breaking point for the day.
I begin my journey to the kitchen from the other end of the house ("Mommy, you have to pee in the potty?" "Yes, Kalen. Because Mommy is a big girl. You should go pee while we're back here...") with a toddler close on my heels, jabbering about her lunch. Without pause.
"Mommy, I want a hotdog with ketchup and a fork. Ketchup and a fork with my hotdog mommy i want ketchup with my hotdog mommy and a fork mommy. Mommy I want a hotdog with ketchup and a fork for my lunch."
I did pretty well, considering this is how she spoke to me the ENTIRE day, since getting up at 7:30 this morning. I silently awarded myself a gold star because, I think I deserved it. So, calmly while I cut her hotdog into bite sized pieces I said to her, "Kalen, Mommy heard you. I'll get the ketchup. Kalen, honey, I heard you, please go sit down so Mommy can get your hotdog." She isn't even hearing the fact that I'm speaking, she's so wrapped up in REPEATING her lunch order... So here I am, standing at the stove, cutting her hotdog and... I suddenly feel my eyelid twitch.
"KALEN, MOMMY HEARD YOU THE FIRST FOURTY TIMES. P L E A S E GO SIT DOWN AND I WILL BRING YOU YOUR HOTDOG, KETCHUP AND A FORK TO EAT IT ALL WITH!!"
Of course, being my daughter, she has the highest level of sensitivity possible in a female (she doesn't even have those crazy hormone induced cry-fests yet...). So she flops onto the kitchen floor, and cries out a horribly dramatic, almost cinema-worthy scene.
And so I did what any reasonable mother would do at this kind of theatrics... I laughed at her, finished cutting her hotdog, squirted some ketchup onto the plate, and placed it on the table.
Okay, so maybe I didn't handle that the best way I could have. I'm actually pretty certain I won't get any mother of the year award with that response. But I apologized to my kid, wiped her tears, told her I loved her, kissed her face until she laughed, and then presented her highly requested lunch.
I'd say it went well.
And I have one of those too that seems incessant about reminding me of things. It's part of his personality it seems. I've learned to tune it out and just go uh huh. Uh huh. Sure Bub. :)
But mom you said I could let my friends come in and play in my room! As I look at the piles of toys everywhere because they pulled every single toy out of the toyboxes.