Being the mother of a two-year-old is officially as much fun as it is exhausting. Here is a very detailed look at our Thursday. I know it's long, but it's for Josh. I want him to remember little details from our days together, of how much fun we have and how much he owes me someday.
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Josh wakes up early. I wake up even earlier after staying up late waiting for Matt to get home from a business trip, and am therefore very tired and grumpy from the get-go. I bring Josh out to watch TV, grab a tupperware full of watermelon chunks to delay breakfast a while, and try to fall asleep on the couch. Josh helps me get comfortable by snuggling up to me little-spoon-style. He takes up half the couch, shoots back up every thirty seconds to get a better look at Mickey Mouse on the TV, and occasionally lets out random squeals of delight and cheesy laughs right into my ear. Was the snuggling worth the bad nap? In retrospect, yes. In the moment, irritating.
After a while I sit up and notice how much watermelon Josh has consumed. Great, that's going to make for some pleasant diapers later. He decides he wants to play with play dough and those little pills that expand into animal-shaped sponges when you put them in hot water. Two activities that require supervision and have potential to make enormous messes, but I'm too tired to think that far ahead and to supervise closely. Luckily, Josh kept things under control, but only after severe time-out threats I spit out every time he flicks something my way. I do, however, notice how carefully he handles his tools and how seriously he takes this "science experiment". His fine motor skills and intense concentration amaze me every day!
Next, I try to be productive and cut out some fabric for my next sewing project. In the past, Josh has been great about helping me sew. He plays with my magnetic pin holder (which is not as dangerous it sounds...he's very careful!) or comments on the pretty material or tries to help by sticking pins in scrap fabric. Today is a problem, however. He thinks it's funny to tug at or sit on my fabric every time I get it laid out wrinkle free. He gets angry when I ask to use some of his precious pins. He grabs my material and runs away waving it like a flag until I catch him and throw him in time-out. Then, in what seems like a plea for attention, he breaks out the sad whiny voice so I can't understand a word he's saying and pulls at my arms so I cut crooked.
I give up on the sewing project for now and try to take care of my dramatic child. I know he's hungry because he decided to play and watch TV rather than eat his cereal earlier, so I try to figure out what he wants to eat by shouting options over his fake sobs. After I make scrambled eggs and toast and finally get him settled in his high chair, he politely informs me that he wants pancakes. (Long frustrated sigh from me.) "No, Josh, we don't have pancakes today, but we have eggs. Put them on top of your toast like Mommy does." Fortunately, that works, but only after I put two more pieces of watermelon in the ears of his Mickey Mouse plate.
While he eats, I do some cleaning and go back to my sewing project. Soon he is done and wants to get out of his chair, so I clean him up and let him loose. Once he notices I'm sewing again, the tantrum rekindles. With no patience left, I surrender. "Fine Josh, what do you want? What do YOU want to do today? Do you want to go to the store?" He think for a moment and then answers, "Yeah. I wanna go Walmart with Steven." Where did that come from?! Steven is my sixteen-year-old brother in California. Josh starts talking about the kitties and some other fun things about Redding, and so I clarify, "You want to go to Walmart?"..."I wanna go Walmart and get strawberries, Mommy." A slightly different idea, but he still seems set on Walmart. I couldn't help but laugh. I guess we've gone there a few too many times since we moved!
I get myself somewhat presentable (no shower still) so we can head to the mall for some errands. I need to get Matt some brown dress shoes ASAP so Delta Airlines will reimburse us, since they promised Matt $50 in clothing for losing his bag in Detroit last night. For the next two hours, Josh is in and out of the stroller, running through department stores, climbing up on every bench and display in sight, laying on the ground crying, pulling items off shelves, and demanding candy from the gum ball machines. Sounds terrible when I list it like that, but in the same shopping trip, he spends a good amount of time sitting quietly in the stroller while I race from store to store looking for what I need. (He's a ticking time bomb in stores, so I have to take advantage of every well-behaved moment.) I believe he sits just long enough to recharge his batteries with a snack and plan his next mischievous scheme. Again, he seems to make a conscious effort to perfectly balance his shenanigans with sweetness so I don't explode.
We finally get out to the car and drive home through surprisingly heavy traffic. Traffic in Midland? Is it opposite day? It must have been because I was already impatient that day, that the world wanted to test me even more. (Isn't traffic always more noticeable and annoying when you're already in a bad mood?) We get home to have lunch, and upon asking Josh what he would like to eat, he responds, "I wanna popsicle Mommy! Popsicle! Popsicle!" (which sounds more like "pot-sih-pole" these days). After a few minutes of futile discussion, I cannot find any energy left to fight, so I give in. I tell myself a popsicle is good for him because it keeps him hydrated, plus it's a Crystal Light pop, so it's not even filling him up with sugar. So I put him in his high chair, take a huge bite of his popsicle for myself, and watch him spaz out with excitement. Then I heat up chicken nuggets and cut strawberries for the rest of his lunch, silently praying that he will not throw them back in my face and start his popsicle chant again when he finishes the first one. I set the food on his tray and busy myself with my own lunch of week-old leftovers. After noticing the quiet munching going on behind me, rather than shrieks and baby talk threats, I turn around and see this:
Josh has taken his popsicle stick and used it as a skewer to make his very own chicken nugget shishkabob. And he's eating it! I'm very impressed. It looks like he's been paying attention to all the Food Network I watch on TV. I laugh out loud and start sending picture messages to family immediately. After lunch, Josh seems tired, so I put him down for his nap a little early. He goes down pretty easily as usual. But about fifteen minutes later, I hear a little boy talking and playing happily. Realizing that it isn't the kid downstairs, I walk back to Josh's room and see him playing in his crib, still awake. When he sees me, he asks for some milk to help him get to sleep. When I come back with the milk, he asks me to put all kinds of toys in his crib with him. I oblige -- whatever keeps him happy and quiet in his crib for the next hour or so. I go back out to the couch to take a break with my laptop. For the next 90 minutes, I hear Josh intermittently talking to himself, pushing the buttons on his firetruck, squealing excitedly. Until some guy starts mowing the lawn outside, and the noise scares Josh enough to make him yell for me. No nap today, which is very unusual, but at least I got a little break.
Josh and I go out to the front window to watch the lawn mower until he's not scared anymore, then we start playing the piano. He asks me to play certain songs while we sing together, the sweetest of which is Toy Story's "You've Got a Friend in Me" (he learned the words pretty quickly). We get into a tickle fight after he starts grabbing my hands to keep me from playing during his turn. He plays so nicely and cutely in his own little world, I can't help but sigh and be grateful for this precious little joy of a boy in my life. (Yes, it seems I've already forgotten about the previous tantrums of the day.) Just listen to him play and tell me he's not perfect!
(For a similar video from when Josh was 4.5 months old,
click here.)
We plan to order Dominos for dinner and make a delicious strawberry spinach salad, but I realize that I have no olive oil for the dressing. So I get Josh in the stroller and head to the gas-station-type market on the corner, hoping they'll have what I need. As soon as I stop the stroller inside the doors of the store, Josh recognizes the opportunity to escape and jumps out of his seat, making sure to run down every aisle possible before I can catch up to him. I stop him just before he throws some noodle boxes onto the floor. Good thing this will be just a quick trip. I grab the olive oil and pay with cash to speed up the process, stop Josh from unwrapping a Blowpop on the way out, and head home.
We're home. I start making the salad dressing and order the pizza for Matt to pick up on his way home, while Josh continues to play the piano. Or so I thought. After a few minutes of unusual quiet, I look over at the piano and see this:
(I know, I'm such a good mom. None of you are ever going to want to leave your children with me again.) It seems Josh climbed up the piano onto the windowsill. See him holding both of the blinds cords for stability? Safe right? Wrong. I realize that if he falls the wrong way, he could continue to fall all the way down those stairs, which are not gated off at the moment. But do I rush over to get him down right away? Obviously not, because I was able to take this picture. (It was too funny not to show Matt.)
I shove Josh out onto the deck to play on his trike until dinner. Finally Matt arrives with the pizza, and I get that natural wave of relief that comes every time he gets home. Today it is extra special because Matt hasn't played with Josh since Monday night -- he's been in Boston. I don't have to be a single parent for the rest of the evening! We eat dinner on the back patio so Josh can keep playing, but he decides to scoop my yummy salad onto the dirty deck instead. Over and over, while I let Matt try to deal with it. Eventually Josh ends up in time out.
After dinner, Matt says he wants to start building his dehydrator, which he'll use for homemade jerky. I say I don't care what he does tonight, as long as I don't have to deal with that anymore (pointing to Josh whining on the floor). So we all go down to the garage to build stuff, Josh singing his sweet version of "Bob the Builder" on the way down. I take a book to make sure I can really tune out and don't automatically revert to caring for my child while there is another capable parent around, no matter how busy he is. I recently started reading "1984" (finally), which I think I like, but is probably not doing much to improve my mood as it's kind of a downer.
So the boys build while I read. Josh gets into mischief every once in a while, sitting on the box fan until it bends, hammering at the wrong materials, dumping out the box of nails, running out onto the sidewalk where we can't see him...all to be expected. But most of the time he is just so darn cute that I can't focus on my book because I have to take in his every move and snap pictures by the dozen! He even brings out his plastic toddler tool bench so he can have his own set of tools. Working side by side with Daddy...it's just too much for me.
When we head back inside, it's 8:00 and Josh desperately needs a bath before bed, after all his manly work in the garage. I start the bath, but realize that I still haven't showered yet today, so Matt takes over with Josh and sends me away. Some days, a good shower can fix anything. Luckily, today the hot water doesn't even run out on me. When I finish up, Josh is just about ready for bed, and Matt puts him down (as usual) by 9:00. I'm think to myself, "Great! I've still got hours to spend with my dear husband, who I haven't seen in days! Perfect!" We watch a little TV until Matt decides to go prepare the meat for his jerky...which takes about an hour. All the while I'm sitting on the couch like a lump, letting the TV and the laptop take turns entertaining my shut-down brain. At 10:30, Matt comes back to the couch and says he's going to take a shower. I say okay, but suddenly start to feel sick. Too much pizza? Too much exhaustion today? So I lay back on his lap and slip into a little coma, only to wake up at 11:30 with Matt still propping up my head and reading. Great quality time together, wouldn't you say? Not. I feel bad for being such a bum, but am too tired to do anything about it, so I go right to bed, earlier than usual. I guess that kid takes a lot out of me.
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This is the kind of emotional roller coaster I ride regularly, and I'm sure all moms can relate. I go from teary-eyed with pride, to shouting in frustration, to laughing out loud in seconds. If I'm crazy by the time my kids have grown, I'm sure motherhood will be the reason. I never realize how much goes on in a day until I try to write it all down. Yesterday was a day that I want to remember for a few reasons. 1) Josh did some really cute things that made me laugh and love him even more. When he's older, I want him to see how cute and smart he was as a toddler. 2) He did some really crazy things that sucked all the patience out of me, but I want to remember that I handled it. I can do difficult things. I can have extremely tough, tiring experiences with my child and still love and appreciate him at the end of the day. Being a mom is worth all the trouble.
