Mommy Muddling Part Trois or, Mommies Need MMA. And Margarita’s.

So Nana and Papa have gone home.  It’s back to the un-fun task of (literally) juggling a baby and a toddler by myself all day.  I don’t throw them TOO high, don’t worry.
So Ellie is going through this really fun ‘scream’ stage.  I swear all I see some days of my adorable, beautiful almost-three-year-old is her bottom molars.  

I tried ignoring the behavior.  (Fail.)  I tried screaming back.  (Ah, spectacular fail.  But I felt better…)

Now that Nana and Papa are gone I’m attempting time-outs.  It’s only been a few days but if I remember from my time working at group homes the first few days are the hardest.  It’s when she will test you.  

Will you REALLY give me a time out?  What about now?  What about now when you’re feeding Benji?  What about now when I have to eat lunch?  What about now when mommy is finally going to sit down and eat lunch herself?  What about when Daddy is home.  What about when your friend is visiting?  Ughhhhhh.

What about a THIRTY minute time out and a nice cold margarita for mommy, kid? 

In any case Benji is teething off and on at the same time so…I’ve pretty much had a headache for three weeks.  Mom and Dad will be sending me their hearing-check medical bills.  I’ll bet this was the first time Da was happy he could ‘turn off’ his hearing!  

On the bright side, according to all older women everywhere whose children have long flown from the nest, this time will pass by SO SO QUICKLY.  I just need to savor cleaning EVERY POO-LEAKING DIAPER that runs down his leg, every scream-fest, and every 2am, 3am, 4am, 5am wake-up call from a fussy baby.

Just really stop young lady, and ENJOY every sour-milk throw-up splatting on your shoulder and dripping down your elbow.

Oh I’m savoring ladies, I’m savoring.  Savoring the constantly damp shoulders (If he’s not spitting up on me he’s gently chewing and slobbering all over me) and the bowls of Kraft Dinner lovingly prepared, flung to the far corners of the kitchen in a fit of toddler rage.  (That’s the WRONG BOWL!!)  

Ahhhh.  What was my point again?  

Maybe, how to not only survive this ‘beautiful time’ but ENJOY it?  Well, maybe, a combination of meditation, prayer, prescribed drugs and secret midnight MMA training?  Maybe.  I’ll let you know.

“You know what’s hard? Even harder than dealing with toddlers? Pretending it’s not hard.” 

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