We survived. We survived the “terrible twos” and lived to tell about it. Literally. That’s what I doing right now.
Seth turned three on the 17th of September and we celebrated with ice cream, presents, friends, family, more ice cream and more presents. If you ask him what he did on his birthday, he will say “I got presents.” Gift giving, definitely his strongest “love language” (see Gary Chapman’s “The Five Love Languages” if you have no idea what I’m referring to).
Ian joked the night before the big day that all our troubles with Seth were behind us. He was leaving behind those terrible twos and growing up. He was going to be three…
Well, he’s been three for 13 days and I can say…the terrible has turned into, well, rather shocking and frightful. It’s been an roller coaster for us the past few day. Sometimes I feel like I have an emotional teenage in the house (running away sobbing over anything going wrong), sometimes a wild animal, sometimes a NFL football player practicing for the big game (often pretending his sister is the opposing team).
This motherhood is tough y’all.
I know there are many “mommy blogs” out there and today I was thinking, I’m not going to write anything. Who needs one more blog post about how hard our job is?
But the truth is, it is. It’s crazy hard. I called my husband one day this week for support before he had even made it to work. He’d been gone about 15 minutes, and I was like “Heeeeelllp!” I took a shower this afternoon only to find a torn up dirty (very dirty, if you know what I mean) diaper under my coffee table on the white rug. I guess the dog couldn’t resist. I clean up toys and clean up toys and clean up toys and clean up toys. There were small ants all over our bathroom. Bridget is waking up 2-3 times every night now. Seth is, well I kinda already mentioned that.
So where’s the hope? Where’s the joy? Right now, this tired mama has a hard time finding it in all the mess. But that does not mean it’s not there. In the midst of all this craziness, it’s there. Because my hope and joy does not come from how my house looks, how my kids (and dog) behaves, how much sleep I get or don’t get, or any of the things that scream (sometimes literally) for my attention.
On days, or weeks, like this, I’ve got to remember “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence come my help. My help come from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.” Psalm 12:1-2.
Where are my eyes on the days that are so hard? Am I staring at the mountain of laundry or looking into the face of my Lord who promises to move any mountain I face. He’s a big God and He can handle all that I can’t. He’s going to give me the grace to deal with a three-year-old that has me completely at a lost. He can give me the strength to keep being the mommy that He has called me to be. Not the mommy the world demands of me or I demand of myself. So I going to try and look more to Him.
Funny thing is, I started this post as a one that was going to detail all the troubles I’ve been having. But instead, I am ending it with a God-focus. And you know what? I feel better. The afternoon may not flow smoothly, but I am thankful for the time I did get to refocus and remember “whence come my help.”