There comes a point in a parent's day when she or he no longer has the will to fight the good fight. Beaten down by the energy and obstinacy of their offspring, the parent retreats to minimum safe distance and pours a cocktail.
Miles and I refer to this as achieving "discouraged".
I got there by 11am today. But by shear dint of will, I didn't pour that first glass of wine 'till 5pm.
Aeron, in particular, was exceptionally difficult today. Ignoring my instructions, sobbing over the least little thing, tearing up her room at "nap time". (no napping actually happened) Hand sanitizer was smeared in the carpet, detangler sprayed on the sheets, books pulled off shelves and strewn on the floor. There were loud cries of, "She hit me!" and "Mom! Boo Boo pushed me!" Aeron even attempting to violently elbow check me in the kitchen as I was getting dinner. Claire was marginally more cooperative and less emotional, thank goodness.
Part of the problem is the little darlings have so much energy. I find it difficult to find ways to wear 'em out by myself. It is clear, however, I need to make more of an effort. If only for self-preservation.... The other part is the developmental stage they are in. The twins will by 4 in July, and they are testing boundaries and experimenting with independence, yadda, yadda....
The girls start preschool next week. The school sits on a acre, with chickens and horses and an aviary with nesting finches. Lots of climbing equipment, time to play in the mud and plenty of space to run amok. I'm hoping they come home filthy and exhausted.
Only 6 more days.....