Frustration

On Saturday, after a long day at theme parks Greenleigh and I snuggled in bed.  It was long past her normal bedtime, but it had been far from a normal day, so I figured we should just relax and enjoy it.  As we sat in bed watching the same Mickey Mouse Clubhouse DVD for the 3rd time that weekend, I looked at her and realized in that moment how big she had gotten.  I was suddenly, and somewhat unexpectedly, overwhelmed with love for her.  I realized how much I enjoy spending time with her and how I wish it could always be like this – calm moments where I can just look at her and love her.

Unfortunately, of Greenleigh’s 12-14 waking hours, I spend at least 10.5 hours disciplining her…I wish that were a joke, but it’s true and I hate it.  As a kid, I was sure that adults liked disciplining their kids, but now I know how much they don’t.  And I think what I hate the most is that taking so much time disciplining Greenleigh, only takes time away from Hazeline.  My poor second born often doesn’t get the quality time she deserves because I’m so busy putting Greenleigh in time out over and over again.  But I can’t not discipline her because then all hell would really break loose.  And while I know that consistency is key, sometimes I just don’t want to be consistent.

Lately, she’s testing me every chance she gets.  On Sunday as we were leaving the hotel I asked her to get into her car seat.  Erajh needed money for the valet and asked me if I could get it out of the diaper bag, which happened to be on the floor board of the car (under Greenleigh’s car seat).  As I leaned down to retrieve my wallet, Greenleigh kicked me in the side of the head.  It was intentional.  She couldn’t put too much force behind it because of how she was sitting and she missed me for the most part, but it did hurt.  I immediately told her that she shouldn’t do that and that she really hurt me.  She said she was sorry and seemed sincere.  I still needed to get money for Erajh, so I held her legs with my arm and leaned down to grab the item with my other hand.  As my fingers touched my wallet, Greenleigh managed to get one of her feet out from under my arm and hovered it over my head.  She just wanted to let me know that she could do it again if she wanted to.  I was stunned.  What happened to the sweet little girl from the night before?

I know she’s a good kid with a loving heart – I see that everytime she plays with Hazeline or snuggles next to me, but then there are those days when it seems that she can’t listen or follow directions of any kind.  And sometimes, like last Sunday, she can be hurtful.  What makes it even harder is that most of her bad behavior is towards me.  Which is really frustrating, because I just want her to be a good kid.  Preferably a good, quiet kid, but just take good if that’s an option.  With Greenleigh turning 3 this weekend, I won’t lie – I was hoping that there were easier days in front of us.  Apparently not.

And please, whatever you do, don’t take this opportunity to tell me that the threes are worse than the twos.  I’ve heard it, I believe it, and I’m not happy about it.  Why is it that every time I think I’m about to hit a milestone that might provide some relief, other moms swoop in and kill all hope for me?  When Greenleigh was about to be 2 years old, I made the mistake of saying to another mom that we just “needed to make it through the terrible twos”, only for her to respond, “Oh honey, the twos are nothing.  The threes are much worse.”  and then as we started to approach the threes, another mother told me that her kids didn’t start to calm down until they were at least four.

At this rate, I might not make it to the fours.