Lately, everything seems to be moving so quickly.  We sold our 8 year old play kitchen to a couple with a toddler last week…it used to sit in the den next to our kitchen and I got really used to the sound of the fiberboard fridge being opened and shut throughout the day.  It was somewhat soothing actually.  I thought I wouldn’t miss it, but I find myself looking at that corner and wondering what will go in its place.

I’ve been having a battle with my 10 year old, she’s almost 11 and isn’t showering completely on her own yet.  She can usually rinse out her hair but she refuses to learn how to shampoo it, so we told her until she can do both things she can’t have long hair.  I sure don’t remember my mom teaching me these things so I guess I just figured it out?  How do you teach your girl child the art of self-care anyway?  I have no idea.  When she can take care of her hair, she can have it whatever length she wants.  It saves this mama a lot of gnashing of teeth, both on my part and hers.

So she got a haircut, the shortest one she’s had since she was a preschooler, and I love it.  It’s bouncy and a little sassy and so cute.  But it instantly added about five years to her face.  Now all I see is arms and legs and freckles and wait a second…she comes up to my neck already??  One more year of elementary school and this girl is off to middle.  I mean I still feel like I just maneuvered those muddy waters.  What is happening.

Today we had an appointment with a child psychologist.  We brought my 4 year old in to talk about her behavior these last six months.  She’s been increasingly difficult and defiant and the biggest challenge seems to be her impulsivity.  I’ve been wracking my brain for months trying to figure out, “Do I spend enough quality time with her?” “Is she acting out because she’s bored?” “What if I’m not doing enough to get down on her level?” “Good Lord what if this is the way she acts when she’s 14?”  I’m never sure on a day to day basis what thing in my house will be marked on, torn up, thrown away or otherwise destroyed.  Last month she took an entire tube of Neosporin and squeezed it all over her sink.  That was super fun to clean up.  She’s drawn on walls, her dollhouse (sorry Joanna Gaines), hidden her sister’s precious belongings and so many other things.  If she was 2 maybe it would be different?  A 2 year old you’d expect these crazy things from.  An almost 5 year old knows better??  Right??

Anyway, the next step seems to be beginning some kind of behavioral therapy, which I’m certainly not opposed to, I mean, let’s get the child the help she needs…but it’s really just another example of how out of control this whole parenting gig really is.  *They are going to be who they are going to be.*  My eldest loves cats and dragons.  My middle is super sensitive and gets her feelings hurt a lot (Hello, Kettle – I wonder if she’s an Enneagram 4).  My youngest is wheels off and truly jumps into every situation with a lot of bravery.  She isn’t afraid of anything!

I’m learning to embrace the idea that I’m the right mom for this job.  That God gave me these three and I am uniquely equipped to parent them.  But I struggle deeply with fear – the fear that colors everything, from “Oh shit I really blew up that time and all they’ll remember is living in a yelling house” to “What if I don’t know how to teach these three how to shave their legs/use tampons/be kind to others/not be mean girls/all of the things?”

And y’all.  The tension.  That place where we want them to grow up but then again we don’t?  How do we live there?  Truly?  How do we hold on and yet let go??

I have no freaking idea.  That’s the point.  I DON’T KNOW.

But I think probably, surrounding yourself with people who love you and your kids and want the best for you is a start.  You need those other mamas that will talk you down from the crazy ledge.  Because motherhood IS crazy!  How do I know this?  I almost drove home from swim class with poop on my hands, that’s how.  My 4 year old pooped in her swimsuit and then handed it to me without telling me she had done it.  And I HAD NO WIPES IN THE CAR.  OR PLASTIC BAGS FROM TARGET.  The one time.  The ONE time I don’t have wipes or a change of clothes or really anything helpful AT ALL.

In what world is this reality, I ask you???

Good luck out there mamas, you’re going to need it.  And a lot of Jesus.  And wine.  Although I can’t drink any right now because I’m doing a damn 30 day slimdown thing.  So Topo Chico?  Unsweet iced tea?  Not really the same but they’ll have to do.