I felt so discouraged today. Nothing tragic occurred, save the four cookies I consumed when I should have stopped at two. Ellie hit the terrible twos six weeks early, and I found myself stopping mid sentence today and thinking, “Who is this child? And how on earth did God ever think I was up for this?”

Parenting can kill you. I mean it. With all sincerity. The minutes went by like Chinese water torture this week. ( I have no idea what that is, but as a child my Dad always threatened me with it and it sounded terrifying). There are some weeks I am overjoyed at getting to spend my days with my little one, watching her grow, hearing her sing. And then there are days that I am certain if I hear her whine my name one more time I’d pull a stunt Ibsen would be proud of. This is not for the faint of heart. Or stomach. ( As she’s been sick for over a week, and I refuse to tell you how many times I’ve sympathy puked.

Just keeping it real.

I just wanted to not be needed this week. To wear a shirt without someone else’s snot on the sleeve. To eat a salad and not make macaroni and cheese. To pee. By myself. With the door closed. With no little hands banging on the outside. I fantasized about going back to work just so I could have a lunch break again. I just want to sleep for more than 2 hours at a time and I don’t want to keep telling myself that this is the year that things will get easier, because they don’t. Get easier.

I don’t think I can change my child, nor do I want to. I don’t believe that I need to step into Gods role in her life. I’m just one, tired Mama, unafraid to say what some won’t. I will always love my EGS, but I am tired of parenting this week. I know that God will equip me with what I need to be the Mama Ellie needs, but I don’t really believe it at the moment.

That’s as honest as it gets, folks. 🙂


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