I’ve sat down to write 10 different posts 20 different times but, darn it, life just keeps happening. A toddler shellacked with a thick layer of (expensive) diaper ointment by her older sister. A toddler getting whacked in the face with the broom by their older sister. A toddler and her older sister conspiring to climb on top of tables to get the cereal on the far reaches of the counter. Notice any patterns?
These past few weeks have been tough on the girls and me. J has been working extra hours and weekends, traveling and being generally stressed about the job. This means more solo parenting for moi. This new not-a-routine routine is throwing the girls out of whack and it’s like a full-moon falling on Friday the Thirteenth every single day.
Yesterday, we thought it would be nice to catch up and spend some quality family time together. We played hooky from church and went to one of my favorite lakes/playgrounds/running spots to get the girls outside in the sunshine and fresh air. We did a few miles before letting the girls out to play and feed the 500 birds that were lounging around in the shade.
The ducks were fed, the girls had fun, I had a good run and we went home, The End.
I had a simply terrible run. My legs felt like telephone poles and I couldn’t find a good rhythm. It was terribly humid and after 3 miles, I was done. The girls did have a blast at the playground but the hit was definitely feeding the ducks and geese. But when the bread was gone and we couldn’t stand the blazing sun any longer, it was time to go home. Commence Tantrum 2012.
Now, E knows how to throw a tantrum. We’ve had some good ones in the past. But yesterday’s tantrum was far and away the “best” yet. It was so bad, I’m certain that all the onlookers thought there was something behavioral or mentally wrong with my child. There were kicks and screams and spit and tears. This girl is 3. I thought we were over the worst of it. Apparently there were other ducks that didn’t get any bread and that didn’t sit well with this girl.
A daddy-talk and some discipline later, it was over and we were in the car finally on our way home. Never to return again. And now I need to find a new running spot.
This is a season of life, yes? It will get better, surely? Because we’re running a marathon at a sprinter’s pace and I’m so.so.so.tired.
On a positive note, I have some yummy recipes coming your way and much more upbeat posts coming very soon. Assuming no one gets shellacked in the meantime.