What a day. I don’t get kids–even if they have half my DNA. I used to joke that there’s not much of a difference between toddlers and the teenagers I used to teach: they’re moody. One minute they need you, and the next they’re telling you to go to hell (well, SK hasn’t learned to say that exactly, thank goodness, but we definitely get the drift now and then…). They cry on a dime, and occasionally scream for absolutely no reason. They slam doors. And just when you think that you’re about to lose your sanity–that tense moment where you honestly wonder who came in and swapped your child out for her evil twin–all of a sudden the tension melts. Evil twin leaves, and your little doll is back. She gives you a big kiss on the cheek and a hug around the knee, and the next thing you know you’re dancing around the living room together, giggling over a funny move. So, what is it? Growing pains? A struggle to assert their individuality? Or just lack of sleep and disgust that we’re having pb & j again for lunch?
I’m going to keep this short tonight. I think I’m wiped out. I told David the other night that the part that upsets me the most when SK acts up is that she’s such an amazing, sweet, good-natured little girl. I mean, to say we’re blessed with our daughters is like saying that indoor plumbing was a great invention–isn’t it obvious? But there’s the rub. When she does act up, it’s almost like I want her to hurry up and get it out of her system already so she can get back to being the “good” girl and we can continue our happy little life. Isn’t that rotten of me? That’s so unfair to expect of a child, and thank goodness I don’t verbalize any of that, ’cause I could really put some pressure on the wee person. When I really think about it, I wonder that it must be awfully hard to be two and have such little control over your life. So I guess that she does have a right to pitch a fit now and again, whether she’s two or 32 (I’m kind of pitching mine right now, aren’t I?). On the upside, at least this is good prep work for the teenager years.