Sometimes {What a difference a year makes}.

I sat down recently to go through my draft folder and maybe finish up a post or 2.  I found quite a few half-written, yet emotion-filled posts that were so enlightening to read through.  My last few years have been a whirlwind of emotion - both joyful and deeply sad.  Revisiting these emotions are so therapeutic for me, which is probably why I have always been a journal writer - drawn to spilling my emotions into written words, learning and growing the whole way.  So I thought I'd resurrect a post or 2 for a nice trip down memory lane!  Here's one from exactly one year ago - March 21, 2014...

In life and in photography!  hehehehe

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Sometimes your husband works eleventy billion hours per week and you're left doing everything yourself.

Sometimes you have 3 dogs and no fenced in backyard and you have to walk them around the yard 3 times a day while leaving your 3 kids in the house to avoid bringing them out into the freezing temps.

Sometimes your kids decide that their superheroes should go swimming in their milk-filled cereal bowls while you're out walking the dogs around the yard.

Sometimes 2 of those 3 dogs don't like to pee or poop while on a leash, so they use your brand new carpet instead.

Sometimes your car makes a really obnoxious high-pitched squealing sound, but your husband is in the middle of his eleventy billion hours at work and can't take the time to pick you up from the repair shop, so you just sit at home with a broken car.

Sometimes it takes you two hours to sit down and write an email to your grad school adviser to assure him that you will, in fact, finish your Masters courses this summer ... while you wonder how that will be humanly possible when it has taken eight times longer than it should have to simply write your email.

Sometimes you just need to take a shower, so you throw your 2 year olds in your (empty) bathtub with some bathtub crayons and you have to get out of the shower with soapy hair in order to break up a fight over who gets to use the blue crayon.

Sometimes your life feels like life will never slow down.  Like it will always be a constant circle of chaos.  Like the work will never slow down and life will be a constant stream of pseudo-single parenting.

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And that's where it ended - inevitably interrupted by the very thing that I was lamenting about at the moment.  

I have to admit, I'm glad those days are over.  Brian is in a "slower" period at work, which means that he's only at the office 50ish hours per week, and working from home another 15 or so.  Yes.  I know.  That doesn't sound slow.  But it is, and for that, I am grateful.  

The boys are a year older, and oh, what a difference a year makes!  Don't get me wrong, threenagers are total a-holes.  BUT, it's more attitude than anything.  Two-year olds are mischievous.  Three year olds can be trusted to a certain degree.  Gone are the days of superheros swimming in cereal bowls (mostly).  Now, they'll ask me if they can do it and yell at me when I say no.  But at least they won't do it.  That, my friends, I can handle.  

And the dogs?  Now we have a fence and laminate floors and little to no peeing and pooping in the house.  

Life is still chaos, but it's better.  It's the kind of chaos that I can handle. 

And maybe even thrive on.  

"Jaw EXTENDO!"

We were on our way home from Target today when Brennan asked if he could have grilled cheese for dinner.  "Sure" I replied, then returned to my thoughts of all of the things I needed to accomplish for the rest of the day.  He kept chatting away and between thoughts I replied with an occasional "mmmhmmm" or "oh yeah?".  You know.  Mom stuff.

Soon he grew quiet and I glanced in the rearview mirror to see what he was up to.  I saw him staring out the window, lost in thought.  Suddenly, he snapped out of it.  "Hey Mommy?" he asked.  "Can you make me a jaw?"

Of course, I thought I misheard him.  "A JAW buddy?"

"Yeah Mom.  A jaw."

Still confused, I went with my usual question when I don't know what he's talking about.  "Well what do you need a jaw for, Brennan?"

He looked annoyed.  "Mom, a jaw is what you eat with.  I need a big, HUGE jaw like Bot so I can eat 100 grilled cheeses at once.  All in a big stack."

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh.  Got it.

My kids love Team Umizoomi.  Like, LOVE love.  For those of you without cable or small children, Team Umizoomi is a team of tiny superheros (Milli, Geo, & Bot) who go around "Umi City" solving crisis situations.  Like putting a bandaid on Mike's boo boo when he falls off his scooter.  Or milking the cows when the farmer is sick so that all of the kids in Umi City don't have to go without milk.  Or returning all of the dinosaurs to the Umi City museum after they're scared away by a storm.  You know.  Realistic crisis situations.  They have to solve all kinds or problems by using their powers, which involve measuring, patterns, and shapes, all while outsmarting douche-nozzles like Door Mouse and the Troublemakers who try to stop them.  It's riveting stuff, let me tell ya.

 source

aaaaaaaanyway, Bot is a robot.  He has a "Belly Screen" on which he can bring up pretty much any image he wants and essentially every part of his body is able to grow longer if he says "(insert body part here) Extendo!".  (Dude.  Get your mind out of the gutter.)

So apparently on one of the episodes this morning, Bot said "Jaw extendo!" and proceeded to eat a million sandwiches on top of each other and Brennan decided that concept would be really cool.  And then when he was getting all excited about his grilled cheese for dinner, he put the two together and BOOM.  Mom, make me a jaw.  Cuz, you know, I don't already have one.  Or at least the one you made me the first time is total crap.

I love the way his little almost-4-year-old brain works sometimes.

Three is going to kill me.

No, not having 3 kids.  Although, I did read this article the other day which made me feel a smidge better about life.  Raising 3 kids = Hard as shit.  Solidarity, sisters.

What's really killing me is raising a 3 year old.  Dear God, I love him with all my heart and soul.  I really really really do.  And when he throws his arms around me and tells me that he loves me and covers my face with kisses, I melt into a giant puddle.

But holy rage, can he ever spit some fire.  The temper tantrums these days are EPIC.  They're louder, longer, and more dramatic than ever before.  Most days, I find it best to be very matter of fact with him and just ignore the meltdowns when the occur.  But there are some days when I feel like he's punching me in the face with his snippy little 'tude all day long and it makes Mommy wanna reach for the sangria.

I remember telling people when he was 2 that he was "very much 2" with his opinions and frustrations and tantrums.  Were they frustrating?  Of course.  Especially because I had 2 infants to take care of on top of the crazy toddler.  But I think the difference was that I gave him the benefit of the doubt.  I mean, it had to be frustrating to not be able to understand why you can't have certain things or can't do certain things yourself.  And really, the tantrums weren't all that often.  Maybe once or twice a day.

The problem with 3 is that now he can understand those things.  He knows that he isn't allowed to do certain things because he could get hurt.  He'll yell "YOU pick up my cup!!" when I ask him to pick up his cup that he tossed on the ground because he didn't feel like getting up.  He'll look me straight in the eye and lie to me when I ask him if he wrote on the couch with chalk, even though we both know that I know he did it.  And the tantrums are more frequent and the whining is constant.  Constant.  He woke up at 5:30 this morning and every.single.thing he said to me for the entire day was a whine.

I think that part of the problem is that I hold him to a high standard.  And as an oldest child who felt like my parents held me to a higher standard for my entire life, I always swore that I wouldn't do it to my kids.  I try really hard to remind myself frequently that he is only 3.  I try to keep my expectations of him age appropriate.  I also try not to eat a half of a bag of chips when I'm stressed out, but that doesn't always happen.

We'll get through it.  At night, we always snuggle up for stories and kisses and I say a prayer of thanks that God provides these little moments.  They're a reminder that he's my sweet boy and we're just going through some growing pains.  I've heard that 4 is blissful compared to 3, so we're powering through to October.

Jesus help me when the Brothers turn 3.  Someone send wine.

3 can't last forever.

This one.

Oh, my Brennan will be the death of me.  

I always said that 16-20ish months was my least favorite age span.  While it's a fun time because they learn so much, they're also caught in this struggle between GET AWAY MOMMY I CAN DO IT MYSELF and DEAR GOD MOMMY WHY DID YOU LEAVE MY LINE OF SIGHT?!