I do a lot of gushing about this little girl on this blog, but the truth of the matter is that not everything is butterflies and rainbows in the Chapman household with a 2 1/2 year old roaming around. It must be hard to be a two year old, all those emotions and frustrations running rampant in that little body. I have my own fair share of meltdowns, and I'm a (mostly) mature adult, so I get it, I really do. But we're at this stage where she's tall enough and strong enough to do just about anything. The only thing she can't currently do is unlock our deadbolts, but that's just a matter of time. Which completely terrifies me.
Most days really are pretty peachy, but when she's naughty, she's really, really naughty. Those days tend to consist of climbing on counters to raid the chocolate stash, pouring water (or worse) on the floor, throwing balls at TVs, pulling little sister's hair, screaming when I say to be quiet, and doing whatever fifty times more when I say to stop. And lots and lots of time outs.
On those days when we finally make it to bedtime it feels like I'm dragging myself across some kind of torturous finish line. After we say our prayers, give our hugs and kisses and turn out the lights, I always have such mixed emotions of relief and regret. Relief to have a quiet second to myself and regret for the times I lost my patience or yelled that day. And I frequently wonder if I'm doing any of this right.
Motherhood is so hard at times, especially right now with a strong-willed girl who has lots of opinions on what she wants and doesn't, and is willing to fight for it. It's hard to put so much time and effort into comforting them, kissing boo boos and making everything alright, and then have to enforce rules, deliver consequences and just all around be the bad guy. It's hard to make your precious baby cry when all you really want to do is love on them (and for them to behave. Like, ever.).
I know that those tears are more for the drama of it than anything and that I'm not actually traumatizing her like I feel like I am. I also know that disciplining really is loving them because it's the only way for them to learn consequences, how to make good decisions, and to respect their authorities - and just all around not be an a-hole. But knowing all of that just doesn't make it any easier. Especially when those hard days start to pile up and you think back to the good ol' baby days filled with laughter and kisses and cuddles, and all you want to do is go back to those carefree times. Those times before your child would throw a soccer ball at your big screen TV and then look at you, as if to say "Well? What are you going to do about it?!"
But then, in between all those hard days, you have a day where you pick your little 2 year old up from Sunday school and the teacher reports that when asked who her treasure was, she said "Mom". (The right answer was Jesus. We're working on that.) :) And then even with the fits and the shouts and the tears and the time outs and the never ending messes, it's all 100 million % worth it.
And now, here I am, back to gushing about that little sweetheart. ;)