Well At Least I Can Drink Through The Teenage Years

You know when everyone tells you, especially when you ask, that 3 is tougher than 2?  Well Miss Mia proved that this past week. She tested the waters, she tested my patience and I officially broke as a Mother and as a Wife.

I tried to stay strong and hold my ground, but where I feel like I somewhat failed last week I also feel a small sense of success as well.

Baby steps through parenthood right?

Last week was rough and I will not even attempt to sugar coat that.

You know when you come home to your wife crying in one corner and your 3 year old crying in the other?  Yep.  That happened.

Friday night was one of the hardest parenting moments I have ever experienced thus far.

For the most part Mia is a very well behaved child.  We don't have to use time out very often.  We pick and choose, as her parents, what we make a big deal and what we do not.  However effective last Monday at 1:57 am, it literally is like someone told her, "hey kid...you're 3, now you can start acting like an uncontrollable spoiled brat."  That is how it felt anyway.  The whining and moaning if she does not get her way had reached a level of insanity.

Friday night while we were waiting for my Husband to come home, Mia wanted to once again help with dinner.  On the menu?  Spaghetti, at her request.  I allow her to help very little with dinner when it involves the stove, but she was obsessed with stirring the noodles and when I told her no for the 14th time (only 2nd, but it felt like 14 ok?) she pushed me.  Not once, but twice and Momma don't play that.  No ma'm.  And off to time out she went.  However she was not having it.  She was going to sit in time out and ball and cry and yell for me (like repeat Momma, Momma, Momma the entire time) for 30 minutes.  AND I AM NOT EXAGGERATING ONE SINGLE BIT.  I made several attempts to explain to her that she needed to be quiet and sit in quiet for 3 minutes. Nope that was not going to happen.  She was going to push until she made me crack.

I call the Hubs and gave him a warning about the mental status of both other family members and what he was getting ready to walk into.  Happy Friday!

I spent Friday night alone.  In my room. With the door locked. Crying into my pillow and a kleenex for most of it.  I came downstairs only a few times for snacks (still very pregnant and hungry even if I'm an emotional basket case).  Mia begged me to let her come lay with me and I knew that I had to say no.  Stand my ground and make her understand that she hurt Mommy's feelings with her behavior.

I didn't even say goodnight to her on Friday.  Just rip my heart out why don't you.

I am a communicator.  I don't like to go to bed angry.  I'm a strong believer in making up before bedtime and talking through things such as this, but with her, at this age, I thought it was better to give it more time.  Was I right?  Who knows.  My Husband agreed.  We're trying damnit.

After I knew she was asleep, I went in and kissed her forehead.  Not just once, but a few times.

I got a decent night's sleep and woke up Saturday feeling better, but still not great.  She had her first dance class and parent's could watch and I cried when she did her gallop alone across the dance floor.  Yes.  I was THAT Mom.

We had a good day both Saturday and Sunday and by yesterday I was feeling much, much better.  We had a few minor incidents, but we were able to talk her through them and avoid any massive tantrums and no time outs!

Today feels good.  I feel normal today.  I don't think I will even cry today.

Hallelujah!

Building a baby is tough work.  Building a baby and managing a toddler is no walk in the park.

As I told my Husband, at least I will be able to drink during the teenage years.  That is VERY good news for him.

Have a great week!