The last couple of weeks have been - Oh Lordy...rough. With H.
All the qualities in her that I so freaking adore, are also qualities that at times make it difficult to parent her.
She is vivacious. Spirited and stubborn. She questions everything. It's her way or the high way, baby. No negotiating. And you'd best have a damn good reason why you'd ask her to do anything.
Truthfully, I love that she is this kind of girl. She will grow up to question authority. She will demand respect if you anticipate it in return. She won't take anything at face value. And quite frankly, she'll always be one step ahead of you. And the world needs more people like that. More people who are curious. People who challenge everything. People who don't follow blindly. And she will be one of those few. And she'll be amazing.
Just like she is now.
Except for now, she's just shy of 4, and sometimes hella difficult.
Typically, she's pretty easy to work with. You just have to realize that you only get respect if you give it with her. Good! You best have a reason for anything you do. Good! And sometimes, she's just 3.5 and so she's slightly possessed for reasons I will never know. Not so good!
A good friend pointed out that maybe it was partly due from weaning that she was having such a rough time lately. I hadn't thought too much about it before then, but realized it surely played a part in it.
My own hormones were all over the place. I was a complete and utter mess. I'd be chopping vegetables and couldn't hold myself together. Dust pissed me off. Coffee looked at me cross-eyed. Everything I ate tasted like soap.
And that was just me.
Sure, she doesn't have those same hormones surging through her body, but breastfeeding is a very emotional thing. That bond is crazy strong. So it would make sense that when it ended she'd be feeling it, too.
So we focused on a lot more closeness. My crazy OCD Type A personality began to come out again during my hormone meltdown. I've done really, really awesome suppressing that part of myself in mothering, but then there it was. Bam! And that made things more challenging, too.
Little things that I never cared about before, started to become battles. I started insisting on a clean playroom, I was lacking in mutual respect. When I'd request something of her and she'd question why my answer was "Because I'm your mom." Thank God she had sense in her brain to stop right in her tracks and tell me flatly, "That's a really terrible reason. I think you need some time to think."
As I said, I freaking adore this girl.
But I was losing my mind!
So much so that I finally broke down and called J Friday and told him I desperately needed him to come home from work early so that I didn't go all ape shit crazy on this sweet girl. Sometimes the desire to yell is a strong urge to choke back.
He obliged.
I took a bubble bath.
J and H had a good talk.
Saturday sucked.
Sunday was...eh, okay.
Today this girl woke up and had been exorcised. Or maybe I had been. Or maybe both of us.
Whatever the case, I'll take it.
Because she is sweet. And she happily got herself dressed, and then she helped to get her brother dressed. She put on her shoes when asked. She didn't act like I was trying to poison her when I put breakfast in front of her without consulting her first. When I told her it was time to leave the play center after lunch there was no fuss. She helped corral her brother.
Thank God.
My sweet girl is back.
I'm hoping that's what everyone was talking about when they said 3 was worse than 2. (And 2 was a breeze!). I hope it's over. I hope it's clear sailing here on out.
I mean, a momma can dream, right?
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