Learning

If there is one thing I've discovered since becoming a mom it's that I know just about everything about knowing nothing! Each and every single day I discover something new and learn something brand new about being a mom and about having kids and about everything else there is to know.

And then there are the days when I learn absolutely nothing and know absolutely nothing and feel absolutely crazy.

I'm on the fence about which kind of day today was.

I adore my children. I've stated that countless times. I think, at this point, it goes without saying. Sometimes, though, my kids make me so FREAKING nuts I want to scream. And then after I finish screaming I want to lay on the couch in my pajamas and curl up under a blanket and watch George Clooney on ER without anyone playing Dora the Explorer music or imitating the WWF and tackling their sibling.

Some days are really great being home with my kids. We play. We go out. We laugh. We have fun. And then they go to bed and it's quiet.

Some days really suck ass being home with my kids. We fight about why we can't have chicken nuggets for breakfast, lunch AND dinner. (Some days I ignore this fight and they do have them for all three and I don't care! They have other food interspersed!) We scream. We cry. We don't go out. We sit in time out for long periods of time. We take extra long naps and extra long showers. We watch TV. We fight over dinner and dessert. We fight over why we can't have another bath even though we've taken 3 in the past two days. And then they go to bed and it's quiet.

In both of those types of days I learn. Or at least I like to think I do. I try to. I want to. Sometimes I don't.

Today everyone was home. The husband. The kids. Me. We were all home together and it was nice. For awhile. We went and did things. The kids were good. They had fun. We ran errands. We went to the zoo. It was fun and it was productive and it was good.

Then we got home.

I was afraid my son's new medication was making him hyper. Apparently, it's him not having his medication that's making him hyper. And nasty. And grouchy. And cranky. And LOUD. I forgot to give him his meds before we left this morning and then I forgot again when we got home and then I just didn't want to talk to him so I let the husband deal with him.

He was off the freaking wall today. My son, not my husband.

You would have thought we gave him uppers of some sort. He bounced outside. He bounced inside. He bounced into the refrigerator 43 times. He bounced into the garage to try and get juice boxes about 19 times. He bounced upstairs. He bounced through the living room. He bounced so much that my husband finally took both kids upstairs so that I could allow my head to come back down to it's normal size and prevent explosion. Then he bounced back downstairs for dinner and it began again.

Maybe my fuse is just short because I haven't been sleeping well. Or maybe I'm just cranky because I hate taking summer classes. Or maybe I'm cranky because I was out in the heat for most of the day and I didn't have coffee and we were walking through a smelly zoo. Or maybe, just maybe, I need a little break from my kids. Maybe....

The boy would not eat his dinner. He BEGGED for macaroni. I made him macaroni. He BEGGED for a big fork. I gave him a big fork. He BEGGED for more cheese. I gave him more cheese. Then he started playing with the curtains. Then he started playing with his sidewalk chalk, inside the house. Then he started dancing around the living room. Then I started to explode.

I stormed over to the table to see how much he had eaten. Not much. I was about to explode. Seriously. Ready. To. Blow.

I stopped.

He stopped.

"What's the problem?" I knelt down next to him.

"I don't want macaroni." He whined slightly louder than my ears generally liked.

"You asked for it. You begged me for it. Why don't you want it?" I was calm. Kind of.

"I want you to feed me."

"What?!?!" Amazed that my child, who has been all about the 'I can do it myself!' With the implied bitch right after it, wanted me to feed him.

"I want you to feed it to me. It's too hard for me." And then he blinked those GIANT brown eyes with the mile long eyelashes on them at me.

"Oh. Ok. You know that babies have to be fed. You're a big boy. You can do it yourself. You do it yourself really well! Do you still want me to feed it to you?"

"Yes, please."

He said please how could I possibly refuse?!?!

I fed him. He ate almost the entire bowl of macaroni. I let him play in between bites. I gave him goals and rewarded him for meeting those goals, "GREAT JOB! You ate three giant bites of macaroni! You get a big hug and kiss for that!"

I stopped.

Sometimes I think that it's me. My kids are good kids. They really are. They are trying to adjust to being home with me all the time after having been with other kids their own age three days a week. Sometimes I think it's that I need to adjust to being home with them and I'm not doing such a great job at it. I don't give them a chance and I don't give myself a chance. Does my son bounce off the walls and off everything because he's bad? Nope. He doesn't do it because I'm a bad mom, either. He does it because he's learning to adjust to being home all the time. He does it because he's a three year old boy!! My fuse is short because I'm still trying to figure out how to deal with two very active kids who don't sit in desks all day and take notes when I speak.

I'm learning. Today I learned that sometimes even the boy who says he can do it himself wants me to do it for him. Today I learned that when I stop and bring myself down to where he is I get a lot more done than when I expect him to bring himself to where I am. Today I learned that I have a shit load to learn.

My kids are really good kids. I'm a really good mom who knows very little about a lot of things but a lot about the little things.

And I'm willing to learn.