I also know that sometimes my kids are the very reason I want to poke my eyeballs out.
Now hold on before you go blasting me. Maybe you haven't lived with a 3.5 year old dictator and his sidekick, the nearly 2 year old queen bee. Or so she thinks. We all know who runs the roost around here. Wyatt and Claire are two peas in a pod.
Most days.
They are sweet towards each other. Considerate. They share. Wyatt helps Claire out when need be. They are the best of friends.
Most days.
But then there are days when they want to do nothing but fight with each other.
It's actually comical because I can pick up on it in the first 30 minutes of our day. They declare war on each other and it typically lasts until nap time. I see the hair pulling (Claire), the biting (Claire), the shoving (Wyatt), and the toy yanking (both) constantly. I have even gone as far as to tell Wyatt "you deal with it" when I have reached my quota of separating.
But then, I step in because things escalate quickly. I don't recommend that avenue.
As a parent you have to know what I am talking about. Right? We've all been there.
Say you know what I am talking about.
Wyatt knows he isn't to take out every toy from all the toy bins, boxes, and baskets. He knows the consequence is he has to pick then all up. By himself. Which is the hardest thing ever because "there's just so many momma". Yah, no kidding kid.
I was prepping dinner and by the time I was done I came into the living room to this.
That would be nearly every "piece" of a toy Wyatt and Claire own. You know the tiny toys that have a hundred parts. Yes. I just looked at him and explained he would be the one to put each toy back in their bins. He was so proud so I mentally said whatever and went about sweeping some area of the floor for the seventh time that day.
Let's just say there are times when arguing with a 3.5 year old is completely pointless. Completely. This was one of those moments.
I was actually fine with it until he lost his bananas towards me because his mountain of toys became an avalanche. Somehow that was my fault. Somehow I needed three reminders not to sit on the couch during his nap, nor was I to move his toys while he was taking a nap.
Yes, sir.
You never try and rationalize three year old behavior. It will never make sense to you and you will never win. Ever.
And then there is our little girl. Our sweet little Claire. The little girl who lives to tell me how it is in her little chipmunk voice.
"No mommy" when I try to hand her the milk that she JUST asked for. "No mommy" when she calls my name to get her out of crib and I stroll in there and try to pick her up. "No mommy" when I open the applesauce pouch she just politely asked please for.
Some days I just feel like I can't win with that girl.
She is so particular about things.
The apple didn't fall far from the tree with that one. She's bossy and Ryan loves to remind me that she is my clone.
Some days are so hard with them. Hard. Like I don't even smoke, but I'm all I need a cigarette break over here. Ha!
Nonetheless they are cool kids. Cool kids that only get cooler with age. 3.5 is a blast. For the most part. Wyatt's just a little boy who loves to share his imagination and get you to laugh. The things that come out of his mouth have me dying.
Claire is all girl. Sweet, funny, full of energy, and a busy body. She can destroy the house with one granola bar in 10 seconds flat. Impressive if you ask me. A pain in the butt if you ask Ryan.
They make me want to poke my eyeballs out, but they also make life worth living.
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