I'm in the mothering trenches right now. The boys are mostly easy, aside from a little back-to-school attitude and some surprising fits of rage, but that two-year-old sister of theirs is giving me gray hairs, a muffin top and so very many reasons to book a one-way tickets to Anywhere. Her attitude is sky high and she has no respect for my existence in her life. A few days ago I asked her to do something and she said, "Just stop Mom, It's not yo pwobwem." and she's also been known to say, "Don't tell me dat, OK? I my own body." I'm serious. If anyone is feeling anxiety about how Quinn and I will fare cohabiting during her teenagehood, join the club.
My biggest source of stress these days is sleep. We're on day six of no naps and it's killing me, straight up killing me. When my boys were this age and tried to stop napping I fought their battles and pretty easily won, but this stubborn little thing seems to get joy out of sneaking out of bed and stuffing her face with my nice Christmas chocolates, or dumping out a whole bottle of hand sanitizer, or unwinding multiple containers of floss, or just nonchalantly walking into the room and saying, "I done wif nap. I wake. You so happy?" And that's on a good day. Most nap times find her screaming at the top of her lungs for two or more hours as I walk her back to her bed and then she follows me back out the door yelling, "No! You not charge! I not nap!" Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
By the time two hours has passed it is often time to pick up the boys from school and then it's too late for a nap (although I tried today for a late one, to no avail) and of course she's exhausted for the rest of the day and spends much of it destroying T's legos, Evie's homework and my sanity. She screams and hits and loses total control over her body and brain and then when it's time for bedtime and I pray that she'll pass out from exhaustion, we go through the whole hours-long process again. I'm tired just thinking about it--but she's not. Unfortunately she's not.
I'm not going to lie, it's been tough. I've never dealt with such a head-strong child before and I keep telling myself it's a stage but she's got me a little freaked out that it's not. That this is our new normal. That I am never going to sleep again and that this is only the first of so many battles to come. Irrational? I hope so! But until I know so, the constant toddler-tude is making me feel a little on edge.
But then there's Cora, perfect and sweet seven-month-old Cora. Aren't seven month olds the dreamiest? She's rolling around the living room now and she reaches for me when I walk by. She's babbling and singing and has the best belly laugh when her siblings say silly words super loud and in crazy accents. She loves to be carried and holds on to my shirt like a little koala, but my favorite is when she gets happy and shy and can't stop kicking her legs and burying her face in my arm.
This afternoon I was talking to an elderly member of our ward who I don't know very well and she said, "I was thinking of Cora today and told my husband that seeing her every Sunday growing and smiling is one of the highlights of my life." My baby is one of her life's highlights! I feel like Cora belongs to all of us and I am so happy to share her shnuggles and love with everyone, especially my sweet sisters at church.
Someday Cora will be two and might even give me a run for my money like her big sis, but for now I'm going to will those days to never come and enjoy her chunky legs, dimpled smile and sweet disposition. I love you, Cor!
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