"Working mothers are guinea pigs in a scientific experiment to show that sleep is not necessary to human life."~ Author Unknown
So, today was one of those days-- the kind of day that starts at 4:45 with a baby who thinks she's literally about to starve-- the kind of day where I think pulling my hair out one piece at a time would be more fun than what's actually going on in my life at the moment-- the kind of day where I feel the need to eat my weight in chocolate chip cookies in order to make it all better-- the kind of day where I seriously question if I'm cut out for this whole mom thing. I tell myself that all moms have days like today. If I'm wrong, please don't feel the need to correct me; this is my dream world, and thinking like this gives me comfort-- don't dare ruin it for me.
What happened, you ask?
Well, that's just it-- it wasn't one big thing. I should truly be thankful. No one is hurt, we don't need a doctor, all of our needs are met, etc., etc., etc. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean that today is a day I'd especially like to relive. Re-do? Definitely. Re-live? Not so much.
Today is one of those days where I wonder what exactly possessed my precious five-year-old to go from this:
And morph into this:
I adore her. She is my comforter and care-taker and joy-giver..... most days. Today is just not one of them.
Today, she thought it would be a great idea to give herself a haircut. You heard me correctly. I said: GIVE. HERSELF. A. HAIRCUT. And then, just in case that wasn't bad enough, she decided to ice the disaster cake with a big, bold-faced lie.
I said, " Libby- your hair looks shorter in the front. It's almost like you have bangs. Did you cut your hair?"
She said, "No."
I said, "Ok, so did someone else cut your hair?"
Again, she said, "No."
Again, she said, "No."
I said, "You're not lying to me, are you? You would tell me if someone or you cut your hair, right?"
She said, " Yes, ma'm."
All was well with the world......until I came home and found the hair she'd cut lying innocently on the counter.
I'm not upset that she cut her hair- in all honesty, she did a pretty good job, and it could MOST DEFINETLY be much, much worse. I am, however, upset that she lied. She didn't even look guilty.
I've heard the horror stories about the terrible two's or maybe even the horrible three's......but why has no one mentioned the not-so-good five's? I'm not sure if it's just a case of the new-big-sister blues or what, but five has been the most trying age for us yet. Personally, I believe it comes from being in that awkward place that lives between child and big kid. She's not a baby but she's not in school yet. She knows all the things she wants to do one day, but she's just not big enough to do them all yet. It's awkward and sometimes ugly and taking its toll on our family.
While I adore my five-year-old more than words, I'm hoping we'll find solace in the magic number six......and that I'll surive to tell you all about it.
My prayers tonight will focus on the desire to discipline and guide in her in a way that is just enough-- not too harsh and not too soft. I want her to know the danger in lying without scaring her and want her to know she can confide in me without thinking I'm a push-over. This whole mom thing should come with a big, fat guide book, a compass, tent, and cantene. Oh, and some super stylish hiking boots.....'cause it's the roughest, toughest trek I've attempted thus far.