The Worrier

K is a worrier.  She reminds me of myself so much, but this is especially true in her anxiety. She tends to worry about the things most little kids don't even think of. The things that some do think of she tends to worry about it a hundred times worse. She doesn't like separation, being alone, or anything scary. We monitor her TV because even simple Disney movies seem to terrify her. She is also extremely sensitive, so even the smallest correction is tough on her. Lately, bedtime has been our biggest problem. Even with her sister right there, she needs to see mommy or daddy until she's asleep. On bad nights, she will wake in a panic and get so worked up she vomits. It's exhausting for all of us.

The hardest part of all of this is that I know how she feels, but there's not much I can do to help change it. No amount of logic will help. I've read books and articles. We've tried so many things.  At the end of the day, it seems like our only thing will be time. We just have to wait it out and try our best.

But it's mine!

Well, it seems the strand of hair is just the beginning. Today we had a full blown argument over a ripped piece of cardboard. Yep. We are moving mountains with their fierce determination. I can only hope they show it when things come up later in life that will make them fear their own worth or question their strength. When a boy breaks their heart or a kid says something cruel, I will remind them they have the fight. I love them so much it is impossible to describe. I am confident these girls will go places.

Professional Development Days

I will preface this with teachers please don't crucify me for this. But seriously what the hell is a professional development day? I mean, is it like a training day? Is a day to catch up on grading? I really don't know. However, what I can tell you from a mom's standpoint that it means an entire week completely screwed. Now you may say oh please drama queen, but hear me out.

These kids thrive on routines and schedules. It is almost a chant when we go over it... 4 days of school, 3 days off, 4 days of school, 3 days off. So when we have these weeks where a day is off, it messes with their little 4 year old brains. Last week we didn't have school on Monday. Longest weekend ever. This week they are off today  (Tuesday). So guess what tomorrow is. A 2nd Monday for the week. We start all over on that first day back exhaustion. It also means my kids are whiney and cranky for the day off because there's no way Mom is ever as good as all the fun school offers them.

I propose I get a professional development day for motherhood. It will consist of 24 hours of sleeping and eating. Nobody shaking me awake at 4 am because their sheet isn't on right. Nobody crying at my feet because they want stuff off of my plate even though it is the same as their plate. Nobody asking for cartoons when their dad sternly grounded them from it the night before. Oh and nobody sticking their little fingers under the bathroom door screaming they have to go too (only to not even get a dribble out if I give into their incessant whines).

And the best part? We will be professionally developed (mentally refreshed), so we can totally handle all those crazy things. We can enjoy those fun cuddles, silly knock knock jokes we've hear a hundred times, made up songs about every thing we do, and those smirks when they know they're in trouble but are cute enough to make you smile anyway. 

Oh, and I think I get it on those days teachers get for this. I am guessing just like moms they love the kids but would rather go to a boring meeting to remind them sometimes the craziness of the kids is actually the best part.

Battle for Attention

When we talked about having kids, we had decided we only wanted one. One of those reasons being the most obvious is that I struggled to get pregnant, and frankly, I wasn't willing to do it again. However, there were other factors. Ryan grew up with his twin and brother 2 years older. He fought for attention from his parents. I had similar experiences in my childhood but not nearly as much since attention was rarely given to any of us (we'll save that for another post).

So when we found out we were having 2, I was excited but terrified. As we go through the stages it feels like there is one thing there is never enough of.... me. Infancy brought on me trying to figure out who to feed first. First weeks of mobility was a matter of who I should chase after and who was getting something thrown at them to slow them down. My lap was never big enough for them to be willing to share. My arms struggled as they grew and weren't always able to be in them simultaneously. 

But one thing I always have had plenty of but they still struggle with is my love and attention. Now attention is probably a fair argument on their part. I can work on things with them together, but there is something crucial about one on one time. We have made active efforts to offer them separate bonding time without the other, but being inseparable, that can often lead to the incessant nagging of when we will go back to get their sister.

As for my love, while they may not see it now, my heart is overflowing for both of them. When they were babies I used to say "if only we had one" and immediately feel that guilt rush over thinking "but which one?" Ultimately, my answer has stayed the same. As much as having one would have been easier, I could never choose which one I would keep. They are so amazing and unique in their own ways I can't imagine life without one of them. And while some nights (like tonight) I find myself wanting to cry because I feel like my attention and efforts will never be enough... I know they will see it one day. They will see how much I love both of them, and there is no amount of attention I give one to ever mean I don't have just as much love for the other.

Preschool Drama

The girls are about to turn four, and they are aboard the constant fighting and bickering train. To be honest, growing up with several siblings made me think I had heard it all. Ha! These two are always proving me wrong, and a few days ago they threw that one right out the window. Setting the scene- they are sitting in the back of our SUV with the middle seat between them. Both of them are strapped into 5 point harness seats. Mariah excitedly announces she found a hair on her shirt, and apparently boredom mixed with 4 year old brains made this quite the spectacular find. Kara asked if she could see Mariah's new treasure. Now let me clarify to you, yes this is a piece of hair. A single strand about 6 inches long most likely from Mariah's head. She passes it to Kara to show off, and Kara is just as impressed. However, because Mariah asked for it back just as quickly as she had handed it over, Kara was angry. I mean, this hair must have been golden or something. A piece of Rapunzel.

It had to have been because all the sudden we have a full on brawl. They are reaching over the middle seat as far as they can to try to hit each other. Mariah is screeching and yelling that her sister stole her hair. In response to Mariah's efforts to tattle, Kara responds how any nearly 4 year old would. She ripped the hair in half and threw it. Oh, the tears. Oh, the screams. Oh, the swinging of fists.

So this my friends is how I am reminded on a daily basis that no matter how crazy my childhood was growing up with my siblings, absolutely nothing prepared me for this. Nothing prepared me for the day my kids got into a fist fight over a piece of hair found (not even from pulling each other's hair out). Not the fights over not letting each other look out their car window. Not the fights over whose turn it was to help scrub the toilet. Not the fights over toys, shoes, clothes, food, or anything else they've been forced to share. Oh no, this gem was all new and probably one to go down in petty argument history.