Does anyone else make little piles on the bottom of their staircase? Piles of things that need to go upstairs... Socks, jackets, toys, shoes, an occasional random tooth brush that you have no clue as to how it got down stairs in the first place? Right now my whole house looks like those bottom few cluttered steps. I keep looking at the endless piles and unpacked suitcases and I can't seem to muster up enough self-respect to clean my dadgum house.
I should be embarrassed about this, right?
Now let's talk about my ridiculous emotions (not pregnant, FYI). My-three-year old has the power to drive me into my closet and cry in secret. It's a little ridiculous how much power her little being has over me. She can make me feel like the most valued mom in the world with lines like "mom, you're the best!" a huge grin and tight hug. She can also make me feel like a pile of dirt when she yells "mom, you're not the best anymore!" ten minutes later... The mood swings of a three-year-old have got to be worse than a teenager! Please, no one tell me that I'm wrong about this. Or how about how I can hear from time out singing "Go away, go go away" to the tune "It's a small world after all". Or last week when she told me to jump out of a moving car. Heaven help me. I know I've thicken up my skin. This three-year-old business has been my favorite stage with Scarlett. We read books, paint nails, talk about the ways of her little world and share gibberish whispers that she thinks are secrets. She is my little best friend that I wouldn't trade for the world. But it amazes me the emotional drain and power such a tiny person can hold over me. Someday she is going to do great things. She is going to be a leader to those she surrounds herself with. She is going to be a great advocate for the things she believes in. So I will continue my secret closet cry sessions when I've let her mood swings get the best of me. All the while I will remind myself that three-year-olds say lots of things they don't mean. And then I will cherish the many more hugs and loves she gives me that far outweigh the grief she causes.
The closet crying may also be in part of the new non-sleeping thing I've been trying out lately. The fun little activity Welles has put in place each and every night. He'll take about a two hour catnap, then wake up calling (screaming bloody murder) for some milk then fall back asleep chewing on his hands to soothe those achy molars sprouting through. I then walk very zombie-ish back to my bed and get about an hour and a half of snooze in, just to wake up and do it all again.
Now, I'm not complaining. Which is probably exactly what it sounds like I'm doing. I love the heck out of my life and family. And some day when Scarlett is off at college I will miss her sweet and sourness. I'll wish she was around to whisper silly little secrets of nonsense to me. And I know I'll miss the days of Welles wanting to snuggle his mommy for hours on end. I know that I'll even miss those piles I curse and trip on at the bottom of the stairs. But some times a mom just needs to blab about these silly little things so she can hear that she is not the only one who cries in her closet.
The end, my friends. Have a beautiful weekend. I sure plan on it ;)