post edit note: I hope anyone who reads this blog is aware of how much I adore Lucy…I just want to remember that indeed, she is tough right now, (because I’m sure someday she’ll grow out of it and the memories will fade). Sometimes you just need to reflect on how much you have grown from the tough stuff. Lucy has been through all kinds of adjustments and changes over the summer and for the most part she has dealt with them beautifully (with some serious feistiness to help her through). I am so thankful for this girl and all she teaches me.
Some days I can NOT get enough of Lucy. I just want to eat her whole.
On those days I love everything about her. The way she cocks her head to the side and tells me (very exuberantly) her whole schpeal about how big she will be when she turns four on October 1st. The way she has to carry her purse in the crock of her arm at all times…even while seated on the toilet. The way she likes to give the sweetest hugs and kisses two times before she can got to sleep at night.
But on other days, hmmm, how shall I say it? My feelings aren’t quite so fond. One particular day last week left me wishing I could hand her over to the snooty lady at the store who shook her finger at me for letting her stand outside the door in the heat while I stood inside in the air conditioning waiting for her to finish her tantrum. (The tantrum was over the fact that she wanted us both to stand out in the heat for whatever reason…just one of her moods.) Some days I get so grumpy after she has whined all day long about what color plate she wants or which book to read or how she must line up all her “guys” in a particular order and then put them all back in her purse just so before we can go anywhere…
That girl is either hot or cold, I tell you.
I know practically every three-year-old is. I’ve had five of them.
But I will tell you that when she’s tough, she’s tougher than all four of the others put together on their worst day. Maybe it’s because her whine is just at the perfect pitch to send me over the top. Maybe it’s because her bad days make Dave crazy, which in turn make me lose it too. Maybe it’s because I’m supposed to learn more patience.
And patience is definitely what I’m learning. Some days I just want to plant a gold star right smack-dab in the middle of my forehead for how patient I have been with her. And other days my patience is just as short as that tiny straw on the camel’s back and I feel like I need to put myself in time-out for how I deal with things.
It all leads me to ponder on a few things: 1) is it just her personality that is really that feisty? 2) is it her syndrome that makes her so darn moody? 3) is it just that she is spoiled rotten?
I think the bad days are starting to get taken over by the good ones. The ones where she has me like putty in her chubby little hand. At least that’s what I keep telling Dave.