A Peek Into Today's Journal

(Excerpts from today's journal entry. In other words, a disclaimer: The following thoughts may be disconnected and on the pessimistic side. But they are the thoughts of a pregnant mom with two little ones who needs to clear her jumbled heart.)

I seem to pick up my journal only when I'm super overwhelmed. I miss having mom friends, especially English speaking ones where I can really express myself. It can be very lonely here, as a mom, as a wife, as a person.

I know losing my patience is "normal" as a mom, but I hate that it's my girls who bear the brunt of it most of the time. It's not THAT big of a deal that I cleaned up 5 or 6 pee accidents in less than 30 minutes. So why does it bring out the worst in me? The yelling, impatient, irrational, mean, frustrated mommy in me? My emotions, my anger, and my frustration too often get the best of me. I overreact.

Today I found myself in the middle of reacting to a situation, and I pictured in my mind a much better way I should have been responding. It was like I was an actor in a movie, acting as the mom no one imagines themselves becoming. I caught a glimpse of what I could do, and instead, I kept on going and reacting. It was easier to keep going and ignore what I knew to be a better response. Is that the definition of out of control? Maybe. It felt impossible to stop and retract and choose a different path. Of course, I was cleaning up urine on the floor at the time. But I need to figure how to do that in the moment. For my girls. And for myself.

There's a word in Guatemala, "chipe" (chee-pay), that is used when the youngest child is acting out, crying, or rebelling a lot. The word is used if the mother is pregnant. When a child is crying or having tantrums or is extra needy, it means the child is reacting to their mom's pregnancy by being "chipe." Before I knew I was pregnant, people asked me if our youngest was chipe whenever she was crying or being clingy. Someone asked me this and a few days later I found out I was pregnant. Regardless, she's in a stage of "rebellion," as her teacher told us yesterday. She's having several accidents while being fully aware of what she's doing. She's being defiant, saying no, is extremely independent and must do everything herself. Everything. If I start to do something for her she retraces our steps so she can do it herself from the beginning (while screaming and crying and yelling if I resist). All. By. Herself. It could be that she's chipe, but she's also just being 2.

It's a difficult stage. It was hard with Ellie too, I remember. We have two very stubborn little girls. But, maybe because Hazel has been my Mommy's Girl, my snuggler, my affectionate one, this contrast has felt more stark. Like a slap in the face. There comes a time when a parent realizes the baby is no longer there. It's been slowly creeping up on me, this loss of her babyhood, but suddenly, it feels much more in my face. I think I have to mourn the loss of my baby girl who has turned into a full blown toddler while I prepare myself mentally for our third and final baby that will begin this cycle one more time.

This parenting thing is tough. No one can prepare you for the sudden realization that your sweet baby has become a terror. A cute, adorable, drive-me-up-the-wall terror. One of the hardest parts of being a parent lately is seeing myself in the mirror, seeing all the worst parts of me as a human. Because that's what parenting does. It brings out the worst in us at times. Of course there are precious moments when it brings out the best in us, and in those I need to dwell during my moments of discouragement and frustration.