The Devil Wears Pull-Ups

Confession #304: I’m convinced that Napolean had nothing on the Mini Master.

I remember once after I had the oldest Disaster, that my mom (or some other adult looking at the past through rose-colored glasses) clucked their tongue at me when I said that Camo was going through the “Terrible Twos”. “Noooo- they aren’t terrible!  They’re TERRIFIC!”  I compromised rather than arguing against their logic by saying,”Fine- the TRYING twos.”

But the facts are- the twos?  They’re genuinely TERRIBLE most days.  There’s a reason why that label has stuck around.  Oh, sure- its probably tough being at an age where you know what you want but lack the skills to communicate it.  But coming from someone who needs to translate “Toddler-ese” daily, sometimes the only “terrific” part is when they’re asleep… finally.

Let’s face it- being a parent is hard.  But what makes it just THAT much worse is when you want to cry, rip out your hair, and hide, and someone -attempting to be helpful- tries to convince you that things aren’t so bad; that the glass is half full; to see the silver lining; yada yada yada.  What we need to do as brothers and sisters in this war called ‘Parent-hood’ is call it like it is- hard.  Difficult.  Strenuous.  Downright Hellish at times.  And its ok to want a break or dream of Happy Hour or want to sell your kid on EBay (not that you should- or could… I checked).  And if anyone tries to tell us otherwise, we should be well within our rights to tell them very gently what they can do with their Pollyanna advice.

Just sayin’.

Now that I’ve stepped off my soapbox, I’m gonna go back to hiding, crying, and searching for loopholes in the whole EBay thing.  You’re welcome to join me- although, I’m preggo again, so you’ll have to bring your own drink.

Control… and other illusions

Confession #302: I have NO idea what is going on.

 

Have you ever been under the illusion that you have SOME sort of control over your life?

If you were still under that illusion, I’m sorry for shattering it, but the fact is, its really just that- an illusion. Like a fancy magic trick.

I was under the impression for a very long time that I had a little control over my life, but lately I’ve come to the conclusion that I really knew nothing. As in, zilch.

How so, you ask?

I had always been under the impression that my family situation was perfect for us. Some people tried to claim that having 3 kids was putting us at an uneven advantage with the whole 3 against 2 thing, but I disagreed. 3 kids was my ideal number. I KNEW in my head and heart that 3 kids was what we were meant for- so much so, that I got an IUD to close Boystown’s boy factory.

Or so I thought.

In April, I found out otherwise. In April, I found out that IUDs can give you the illusion of control without actually giving you any. In April, I found out that I was actually 5 months pregnant with our 4th addition to Boystown.

Yup. Another boy. And yes- 5 months.

So, basically, we’ve secured our spot here. We’re single-handedly keeping my husband’s family name alive.

So many times I thought that I knew where my life was headed. Life is funny that way. Just when you think you’ve got it all under control, life kicks you to jog your memory- sometimes very literally.

Its times like this that I’m reminded of a quote:

We make plans, and God laughs.

Well played, God. Well played.