No Manual Here
Venting and a little bragging on my computer keyboard. That's whats on the agenda today. I feel like every few months I word vomit my motherhood woes and goals. It's been a while, so I think we're due. Here we go... Being a mom is hard. I mean, it's so incredibly beautiful, rewarding, over-the-moon wonderful, but hard. Once you feel like you've mastered something, like you've really got it down and feel that smooth sailing, BOOM! Another obstacle to conquer or be conquered by is thrown your way. And sometimes it drains you so physically and emotionally that it makes you feel like you're failing. Well, motherhood certainly does not come with a manual. It comes with a very imperfect mother who has just as much to learn to do as the child. At least that's the kind of mom my kids came with.
We've kind of (emphasize kind of) graduated from the tantrum phase with my eldest. Now we're being conquered by the teenage-mouthy-toddler phase.
Yesterday, we were driving from a museum with cousins and friends, to Scarlett's next fun play date. Before dropping her off I thought I'd be a fun mom and drive though a Zaxby's where I ordered Scar some chicken strips, juice and fries. All instead of making her eat left-over chili in the fridge at home. In my mind, cool mom. In her mind, not exactly what I wanted, mom. After my "some kids never get kid's meals and are starving, so be grateful!" speech (a tad drastic, I know...), she reluctantly ate some of the meal. Then we hit a bump in the road (literal and metaphorical) which caused my back seat, booster-riding teenager to yell "MOM! YOU MADE ME SPILL EVERYTHING! You always make me spill everything! I'm just so mad at you right now!" and then drop her remaining food to the floor. I said about five times in my head, choose patience, choose love, choose patience, choose love..... And I did. Until the next couple of teenage comments. Then I chose to pull over and calmly yank the soap bar out of my center console (yes, I keep one on hand) and give her tongue a couple of good soap rubs. She then chugged water like she'd been stranded on an island, spit five times into a plastic baggy and promised the yucky words were all washed out. I know that sounds mean. It felt mean mean, too. But life without a mommy-manual is tough stuff! I never know what the exact solution is for my motherly hurdles.
We had a good make up after dropping her off. Filled with hugging and an "I really do love you, mom". How quickly she forgives me every time after a drastic mommy-daughter moment. It's as if she knows that I'm still learning, too. I think god created children to be so pure and forgiving because he knew he didn't send them with a manual and that we have to learn what works best with each child. Also, maybe she forgave me so quickly because she knew she deserved a good mouth rinse to get the yucky words out! I tell ya, I'm not putting up with the teenage crap at four years old. ;)
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