Killer hour(s)

Calling all mothers! Calling all those who know what motherhood feels like sometimes. You know, when your three year old is screaming demands only to throw himself on the floor when his every request is not met instantly. When you're trying to cook dinner and he is a whirlwind of craziness and chaos around you. When he is constantly under foot and never less than two feet away. When you just get the bed made and he comes and jumps on it, throwing down the pillows along with the pile of laundry you just folded. When you're at Target with a cart full of necessities and he decides his life depends on a Lightening McQueen PillowPet, only to scream and jump up and down in the cart when you do not pick it up and give it to him. That's when you must immediately leave the store, cart and items abandoned in aisle, because you are just so embarrassed and because you know he will cry all the way to the checkout, during checkout, and as you exit. So you figure it's just better to keep your head down and make your way out. That of course means, you must go back to the store, and you hope it's alone this time. 

        

It's that feeling, when it's 5:30, your husband is at school, and after a long day of trying your best to be patient, the three year old screams while eating his dinner, that he wants CHOCOLATE milk. After you give him regular milk in a regular cup, he screams because he wants it in a sippy cup. You ignore him until the screaming gets louder and louder. Then you decide, the naughtiness has gone far enough. So, with as much kindness that you can muster after such a day, you take him out of his high chair and start to carry him to the bathroom. On your way to the bathroom, you step on a hot wheels car. You may, or may not, shout a curse word, pick up Buzz Lightyear and throw him into the kitchen. 

           

It's that feeling when, after bath time, while dressing him in pajamas, he says he is sorry. He puts his arms around you, kisses you on the cheek and says, "I love you Mommy." After a day with, more than you can count on two hands, number of tantrums and countless "No's" and "Don'ts", one feel-good moment happens, and lifts your spirits a little. But those moments don't always happen. Some days, the terrible threes last every waking moment. And that's when, after you put the little {insert whatever you'd like to call him that day} to bed, you pray that tomorrow will be better. 

       

It probably won't. 

Because he will still be three in the morning.

But you can always hope a feel-good moment will happen that day.

P.S. Sorry Buzz.