Years ago, I was back "at home" in Illinois and I ran into an old friend from high school. She already had two little girls at the time but I was still very much single and childless. The friend seemed slightly frazzled and proceeded to tell me about how that particular day had been for her. I don't remember all of the details but the part that stuck in my mind was this: one of her daughters had been playing in the toilet and had gotten a spanking. At the time, I remember thinking, "Why would you spank her? That sounds kinda cute!" I guess ignorance really is bliss when it comes to parenting.
Yesterday was one of those days for me - the kind of day when I've had to spank Wesley's bottom before the smoke from cooking breakfast has even had time to clear, the kind of day when you start getting the kids ready for bed - at 2:00 PM, the kind of day when I wonder who tricked me into becoming a mom, anyway.
I was up pretty early and Wesley was contentedly watching cartoons. Wyatt was still sawing tiny logs. I recognized this as my chance to get a shower - possibly my only chance for days...so I quietly turned on the shower and got my towels ready. As I attempted to step into the shower, Wyatt began to cry and Wesley came running. As if the very idea that Mommy might be trying to do something alone had set off a silent alarm alerting them both to come immediately.
Typically, I shower as fast as humanly possible with both boys in the bathroom, peeking out every minute or so to make sure no one is on fire. Well, yesterday I pulled back the curtain just before turning off the water to see Wesley dip the toilet brush into the toilet and then wipe it all over the wall. He looked up from his work and told me proudly, "I paintin', Mama."
The day dragged on with him climbing into the fireplace, spitting a mouthful of juice onto the carpet, and having a breakdown every few minutes for miscellaneous reasons that only he could understand. Right before bedtime, I noticed his fingernails needed to be cut so I pulled him on my lap and did this while he screamed as if I were removing his appendix without anesthesia.
Thankfully, at this point it was close enough to bedtime to call it a day. I held him on my lap for a few minutes in the rocking chair to calm him down. Then Bryan and I both took him to his bedroom. We prayed with him and then Bryan left but I stayed for an extra minute to give my monster another kiss. As I stood up to leave the room, he whispered, "You look pretty, Mama."
And that was just enough to make me put off buying a one-way ticket to the Bahamas for another day.