Today was frustrating. We have been dealing with a lot with these little girls. This whole week has involved sleepless nights, mid-night puking, mid-night peeing the bed, mid-night cats attacking my face, mid-night random toys going off. Each morning has been a fight with a screaming toddler that doesn't want to walk, doesn't want to change her clothes, doesn't want to go to the potty. Each afternoon has involved fighting, pushing and poking, "its-not-fairs!," "stop its!," and "you're rudes!"
However, as I'm trying to clean up the sheets from last night's accident, this little lady was not having any of it. It's as if when we got pregnant with Lucia, the Lord crafted her to be specifically the antidote of what I needed to handle this life. All miss Lu wanted was to snuggle her mom. I was mentally running through the never ending list of things that require my attention, staring at the laundry lurking, like a large oaf, placed inconveniently in the most trafficked area of our bedroom. But before I know it, this little girl will be 9 and working on her spelling list.
I'm still struggling with my joy. We went to lunch today (Ricky and I) and I just cried. I cried at the fighting, I cried at the fit throwing, I cried at the lack of peace in my home. And I cried because I don't know how to fix it.
I am a clear cut, firm numbers type of person. Each puzzle piece fits specifically where it should. And this puzzle of parenting is far more ambiguous than I thought. There is no clear paved road with corresponding yellow and white lines, telling me where it's okay to pass or where to stop. Instead, this journey is like a rugged mountainside, with no previously travelled pilgrim's prints. I can barely see a trail on the adjacent mountain of motherhood. It's terrain is different, and though I can see the other pioneers trudging and traveling along their parenting paths, each of us have very different journeys.
So we finished our bed, we worked on homework, we even did some tax stuff we have been needing to do. Our table is a giant mess, Lucia is scribbling her heart away in her own notebook, and again I need to power through the chaos.
We finished our night off late as usual. It took us (aka Charlee) forever to focus enough to get ready for bed. We read together as a family, minus dad. (He was at a men's Bible Study.) we read about the Good Shepherd and how David was loved by God even though he was a bad man with evil in his heart. Jovee was angry the whole time that she didn't get to lay next to me. Her furrowed eyebrows held strong through our whole reading time. I asked her to name 3 good things in her day. She refused.
So to bed they went, after some love and more discussions of how we don't always get what we want.
Tomorrow I have a day off. Hopefully I can get out of this mental funk of drained mama drama and enjoy some special time with friends.