It doesn’t take a village to raise a child. I take major umbrage with that statement.
However, it does take a family to raise a 2 year old.
Ruby was getting on everyone’s nerves this morning. It has been a cacophony of whining, crying/screaming when everything didn’t go her way. Caleb had his fingers in his ears, sitting at the table trying to do his writing assignment. Sadie had retreated to her room, unable to focus on her math amidst the noise.
I nursed her. She ate a good breakfast. I tried reading her a story. I played blocks with her. Still, she was overreacting to everything, shrieking constantly, defying my authority and being generally naughty.
And so I retreated to the cool of the basement with the baby on my hip, to deal with some delicate laundry.
Actually, I’ll be honest.
I needed a moment away from the 2 year old.
To calm down so I could deal with her appropriately. I could feel myself getting angry.
When I came back upstairs, Julien was rocking her in his arms and singing his own version of Three Little Birds by Bob Marley, edited on the fly to fit the situation.
“.. you should worry
’bout everything…
‘cos every little thing’s…
not gonna be alright…”
I guess this is just what a 2 year old needs to hear every once in awhile.
We all have mornings like that every once in awhile, don’t we?
I remember how difficult it was having these days with my oldest son, alone with no other people around to help.
This little one, however, has several available to take turns when Mom’s patience is nearing its limit.
And that is a very good thing.
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