On Thursday, Scarlett and I were not getting along. Everything I said turned her into a raging ball of fit throwing toddler, inducing thrashing arms and deep breath stealing sobs. It was so tiring. Each demand she made was more unavailable to her than the last. "hold you", "pacie", "this book", "no shoes outside", "inside", "hold you", "gym class", "hold you". We rarely have days like this.
Most of the time Scarlett is an image of perfection in my eyes. I see past the "throw your head back in stubbornness" here and there, and the rolling of the eyes, accompanied by a deep sigh and audible "humph". These unflattering toddler moments are easily overlooked when most of the day she is smiling, laughing, starting a dance party, carrying her baby around the house in my scarf turned sling, asking to help make dinner or excited about a trip to the grocery store. But on Thursday, the 15 minutes of morning peace and extreme cuteness that took place in the bathroom...
couldn't override the frustrating, overwhelming sense of "WHY ARE YOU BEING LIKE THIS...I give up mother hood" that flooded over me until the moment I was finally able to say "thank God she is asleep".
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