That is what I have affectionately (or perhaps unaffectionately =) nicknamed my two-year-old twins. They. are. tornadoes. In every sense of the term.
It is a phase, a stage, I know. But why, oh, why does it have to be now? When we are already in the midst of a complete transition? When life already isn’t normal? When, at times, these walls truly feel like they are closing in on me?
I cannot tell you how many times these little ones have written on the walls of this townhouse. With pencil. With crayon. With marker. I want to throw out all writing and coloring instruments for good. At least until we move into our house, and I can have a VERY HIGH cupboard for art supplies. But I can’t do that. I have three other children who use pencils, pens, markers and crayons for hours everyday. They outnumber these crazy toddlers, but it sure seems like these littler people are taking over this family and this house.
The family room is tidy. Until they take it apart. If it’s not one room, it’s another. Even the bathroom. They push any button they can reach on the computer. They take out all of my baking pans. They pull the bathroom stool up to the pantry to get their own snack, which obviously results in a mess.
(Most of this is my dear boy, because my girl wants to play with the older girls. But when they aren’t around, she happily joins him in these antics.) Such as …
They now get out of their cribs during their supposed nap-time, and destroy their bedroom (i.e., take things apart, pull out baby wipes, unplug the lamp, get into the bins in their closet, throw every stuffed animal out of their cribs … Some of this is dangerous, I know! All I want to do is empty their room completely, but here, we have no extra space. I actually was grateful that they don’t have much themselves, so I could use their closet for additional storage. Ugh!). The other day this scenario was “epic naughtiness,” as my husband would say. Oh how much fun they had while I knitted and prayed my Rosary downstairs via my iPod!
Oh how much they are driving me crazy!
I have raised three other children through toddlerhood and beyond. But this. This. is. different. This is an entirely different parenting realm. One that is leaving me frazzled and frustrated and just plain ol’ tired.
Part of it is because there are two of them. Part of it is because one is a boy. And another part of it is because one is very sassy.
Sometimes all I desire is a break. Just one day—a couple hours!—here and there, of peace and calm.
And I feel so badly for my trio. They need me, too. They need time to do crafts and play games together, but we just can’t when the twins are awake. And it’s not fair to them. My DH and I are doing an OK job, taking the trio out for special time, when one of us can stay home with the twins. But we can only do this on weekends when DH is home.
This, too, shall pass. I know, I know. But when???
The other day I was getting after the twins for what I mentioned above: destroying their room, and the sassy girl twin laughed at me. I really don’t think she gets that you just don’t laugh at your parents. And I just looked at her. I was mad. She was giggling. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. She is my path to sanctification. I need her to get to Heaven. And she needs me. Oh! How I wanted to ring her little neck, but all I could do was kiss her. She (they) were given to me for a great purpose—as were all of my children. And I must endure this very frustrating phase as best I can. Not resenting it. But offering it up. Cleaning up the aftermath. Trying to teach them lessons along the way. Giving as much to my other girls as I possibly can, too. And loving them. Unconditionally. All of them. Even the twins. Even when they are ripping through my house like little tornadoes.
P.S. This has not diminished my more upbeat, happy post of yesterday. The spring-like weather is still very refreshing. Sometimes the joys and struggles can go hand-in-hand.