I'm a Perfectionist and it's killing me. But the first step to solving a problem is admitting that you have one. That being said, it's not actually killing me but there are moments when it feels like it is. What can I say, I like order, I like it to be done promptly and without deviating from how I want it. (My kids just don't seem to get it)
Being the mother of 3 older daughters and then a son, I thought I had the 'terrible twos' figured out. I DON'T! Boys are so different from girls. Now I don't need you to shake your head at me and roll your eyes and say 'DUH' but really they are so different.
It started about 2 weeks ago when Gage started getting into mischief when I was nursing the baby. O.K. whatever, but it's only escalating and I know that the biggest reason for it is Archer (the baby) but what can I do about it. When I'm tied up nursing the baby I'm nursing the baby I can't be chasing a 2 year old. Yesterday was a prime example of how being a perfectionist and a nursing mother with a 2 year old that is looking for attention do not mix.
Gage got up a little later than usual and I was already in my workout gear. So I threw a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and almonds and brown sugar at him and then headed off to the computer room. Now I must preface this with the fact that I had had a major go around with my Aurora and Rayann just before I sent them off to school about them arguing and bickering with one another. I was in a bit of a bad mood and I wanted to burn off a little steam so Jillian Michaels was going to kick my butt in a 30 Day Shred. So I threw the food at him and started my work out. Pretty soon he's trying to get in the way and what not so I sent him back to the table to eat his breakfast. This is when I discovered it spread all over the table, bench and all over the floor. He had literally seperated each flake of oats and had spread them all over the table. I was fuming. I was in the middle of a work out and didn't want to be dealing with this. So I shut the work out down, and got on the phone with my sister. I call her whenever I need to vent. I started the phone conversation with "If this day stays on it's current course I will probably only have 1 child by the end of the day." I shared with her my struggles of life as a mother of 5, with head strong daughters and a nursing baby and crazy 2 year old and my husband off at work for a week at a time.
While I was on the phone, ignoring the 2 year old so I didn't really string him up by his toes. He went in the bath and sprayed the tub inside and out, down with tub cleaner, got it on the floor and all over the floor. So I go to remind him that he has to pick up all the food off the floor, bench and table and he's soaked from the knees down in bathroom cleaner and the tub is covered as well. Are you kidding me??
Just the night before I was telling my husband that I just can't seem to get a grip on this manic 2 year old and then he starts schooling me on how manic he really is. Later, this very same day, I had asked Gage to get some socks so we could go out to the bank. What does he do instead of get sock? Well he ripped apart a Christmas gift, original piece of artwork that my sister made for me. His little life is going to be very short if this continues.
So by now my mind is on melt down mode. It's not melting down but I just am having a hard time nursing the baby and keeping up with him. Keeping the 4 year old entertained and the 2 year old out of trouble. I've texted the hubbs a number of times and he is laughing behind his phone screen I'm sure of it.
After Aurora and Rayann got home from school the front door of the house was open and Gage stuck his finger in the back of the door, in the crack. Well, when the door went to be shut, 3 of his fingers were still in there. So he now has 3 very black and blue fingers. I had just finished nursing Archer, for what seemed to be the 37th time of the day. I had just tipped him up to burp him and Gage comes over to climb into my lap and then Archer puked about ¼ cup of milk right down the front of my cleavage. I just started to cry. I can't be a mother of 5. I can't handle all the different ages, challenges that come with trying to parent the various arenas. I can't keep simple things like breakfast in a bowl. I just can't do it. And being a perfectionist that doesn't really resonate.
I am able to laugh about it today so that means that it wasn't that bad yesterday, but really. Where can I go from here?
Being the mother of 3 older daughters and then a son, I thought I had the 'terrible twos' figured out. I DON'T! Boys are so different from girls. Now I don't need you to shake your head at me and roll your eyes and say 'DUH' but really they are so different.
It started about 2 weeks ago when Gage started getting into mischief when I was nursing the baby. O.K. whatever, but it's only escalating and I know that the biggest reason for it is Archer (the baby) but what can I do about it. When I'm tied up nursing the baby I'm nursing the baby I can't be chasing a 2 year old. Yesterday was a prime example of how being a perfectionist and a nursing mother with a 2 year old that is looking for attention do not mix.
Gage got up a little later than usual and I was already in my workout gear. So I threw a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and almonds and brown sugar at him and then headed off to the computer room. Now I must preface this with the fact that I had had a major go around with my Aurora and Rayann just before I sent them off to school about them arguing and bickering with one another. I was in a bit of a bad mood and I wanted to burn off a little steam so Jillian Michaels was going to kick my butt in a 30 Day Shred. So I threw the food at him and started my work out. Pretty soon he's trying to get in the way and what not so I sent him back to the table to eat his breakfast. This is when I discovered it spread all over the table, bench and all over the floor. He had literally seperated each flake of oats and had spread them all over the table. I was fuming. I was in the middle of a work out and didn't want to be dealing with this. So I shut the work out down, and got on the phone with my sister. I call her whenever I need to vent. I started the phone conversation with "If this day stays on it's current course I will probably only have 1 child by the end of the day." I shared with her my struggles of life as a mother of 5, with head strong daughters and a nursing baby and crazy 2 year old and my husband off at work for a week at a time.
While I was on the phone, ignoring the 2 year old so I didn't really string him up by his toes. He went in the bath and sprayed the tub inside and out, down with tub cleaner, got it on the floor and all over the floor. So I go to remind him that he has to pick up all the food off the floor, bench and table and he's soaked from the knees down in bathroom cleaner and the tub is covered as well. Are you kidding me??
Just the night before I was telling my husband that I just can't seem to get a grip on this manic 2 year old and then he starts schooling me on how manic he really is. Later, this very same day, I had asked Gage to get some socks so we could go out to the bank. What does he do instead of get sock? Well he ripped apart a Christmas gift, original piece of artwork that my sister made for me. His little life is going to be very short if this continues.
So by now my mind is on melt down mode. It's not melting down but I just am having a hard time nursing the baby and keeping up with him. Keeping the 4 year old entertained and the 2 year old out of trouble. I've texted the hubbs a number of times and he is laughing behind his phone screen I'm sure of it.
After Aurora and Rayann got home from school the front door of the house was open and Gage stuck his finger in the back of the door, in the crack. Well, when the door went to be shut, 3 of his fingers were still in there. So he now has 3 very black and blue fingers. I had just finished nursing Archer, for what seemed to be the 37th time of the day. I had just tipped him up to burp him and Gage comes over to climb into my lap and then Archer puked about ¼ cup of milk right down the front of my cleavage. I just started to cry. I can't be a mother of 5. I can't handle all the different ages, challenges that come with trying to parent the various arenas. I can't keep simple things like breakfast in a bowl. I just can't do it. And being a perfectionist that doesn't really resonate.
I am able to laugh about it today so that means that it wasn't that bad yesterday, but really. Where can I go from here?
I'm sorry you had a terrible day. I wish I could do something to help. Sometimes letting go is the hardest thing in the world. Try to hold on to the fact that the raging aggressive 2's of a boy do pass. Adam went through that destructive, hitting, make a mess of everything stage... and now he doesn't anymore. Keep your chin up lovely... Wish there was more I could say. Love you!
ReplyDeleteI'm also sorry he ruined that picture I made for you. So sad... but the good news is. I made one... I could make another ;)
ReplyDeleteI love you.
ReplyDelete