When a day is too much

I need to start off by saying that I am lucky, fortunate, blessed, and extremely thankful for my life. I get to do what not all mothers get to do, stay at home with their children. It was something that Josh and I discussed before having children and knew that this was something we wanted to make happen. From the moment that Annaliese was born I have been able to see each and every moment. Her first smile, her first step, her first time rolling over. Everything that she was experiencing I was right there with her cheering her on. Life continued when Madelyn came along and I was able to experience each milestone with her. It has truly been a blessing. When they were babies (and not able to talk) life seemed magical.

Now lets fast forward to the present. Life with a two and three year old. “Oh it will be nice that your kids will be so close in age” they said or “They will be best friends” others said. Ummm….thanks everyone but I think you lied to me. Sometimes days can be such a challenge. Even though these days do not occur often, when they do happen I feel as though I need to be put in a padded cell.

The ability for my children to see my weaknesses and then to calculate their own actions to prey on those weaknesses is dumbfounded. How did they get so smart? I ask. (Then usually I say to myself “well they do have me as a mother”). However their good genes cannot be the cause of all their brilliance. The manipulation that goes into their carefully laid out plans. I picture them at night once we sing their songs, tuck them in bed, and give a million kisses, the moment that  door shuts it’s game on. They pull out their poster-boards and their fact sheets and plan for tomorrow’s scheme. Will they say mom 150,000 times in order to cripple me and weaken my defense. Will they opt for the more risky one of pinning mother against father in a classic game of “who says no and who says yes”. Or my personal favorite, commit to fighting with each other all day long so that I will definitely lose my marbles. Either way they have the ability to cause one day to feel as though I just may not make it till night time.

Sometimes one day is too much. Too much whining. Too much fighting. Too much usage of the M word. I do everything that I can to keep the two from seeing that they are winning. I fight my way through the day knowing that eventually Josh will have to come home. But even though the day may have been too much, the second I lay them down in bed I eagerly await for morning to see their precious faces.