Having a three year old is exhausting. Physically, yes sometimes, but mentally it is an ongoing battle. She is constantly struggling with who and what she wants to be. In the same sentence she will say she is a big girl and a baby, she can do it by herself but she needs me to help. Every time I think I figure out how she wants to do things it changes. It's mentally draining. At the same time, she is highly influenced by her two older siblings, so always saying things you wouldn't normally expect a three year old to say. If Sarah does something to upset Amanda she'll tell Sarah that she hurt her feelings and that Sarah isn't her friend anymore. She'll say something jokingly to me and then say psych, or she'll tell Andy to shut up.
At the same time, I've got a prepubescent nine year old who thinks he is smarter than Charlie and me put together, but will cry because his cereal is soggy. He is totally unpredictable and his emotions are all over the place. He hasn't hit the full swing of the hormonal influx that comes with puberty, but it's coming and it's not going to be pretty.
Finally I've got a sweet little six year old with horrible, horrible self confidence who thinks everything is about her. Everything. I know most kids think this way, but she's over the top. If I tell Amanda that she looks pretty, Sarah will say "What, I don't look pretty?" or if I tell Andy I love him she'll say, "Oh, you don't love me." Um, no, my conversation with them has nothing to do with you. Plus, I can love them and still love you or think one is pretty and still think you are pretty.
So, if you've been wondering why my writing goes in spurts or why I've been kind of quiet for the last week, it's because I'm having a hard time finding my children's antics funny and I'm so tired from all the drama that all I want to do at night is veg in front of the computer or the tv. Not a good habit, but I need to get my renewed energy somewhere, so I can go out there and try to outwit and outlast for another day.
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