my thoughts on life, love, faith, and motherhood
I’ve written quite a bit about mothering my two year old lately. I guess it’s been therapeutic getting it written out how I’ve been feeling. Dang it, it is not easy having a 28 month old and a 7 month old at the same time. My very content baby girl is so enamored with her big sister that she doesn’t even cry when her big sister pokes her in the eye or pushes her over when she’s sitting, or yanks a toy out of her hands that she was pretty excited about gnawing on. Me, on the other hand, I want to blow up. I think it’s a culmination of my two year old pushing the boundaries of her independence, yet still desperately wanting my attention, in spite of that pesky baby sister. I have to pause before I open my mouth to rebuke and discipline, or words that I can’t erase at a volume I can’t turn down will escape my lips. In that pause, I whisper, “Please help me, Jesus!”