I've had a hunch for the past few weeks that Marci has been in a bit of a state. Classic terrible two's kinds of stuff. Lots of frustration and miscommunication. Try as she might, sometimes she just can't get her point across to me. Despite both of our best efforts, she has frequently wound up wailing on the floor. Sigh . . .
I'm nothing if not a little slow to catch on to changes in our children's behavior. Perhaps it's because I'm too involved in just staying afloat between juggling the demands of work, family, friends, church, volunteering and some occasional "me" time. Or perhaps I'm too enthralled in the details to appreciate the big picture. Maybe I'm just too tired.
After bathing the kids, I took Marci into her room to put on her jammies last night while Daddy helped Osten make a birthday card for his sister. We were no sooner in her room, when Marci began insisting that we return to the bathroom for some reason or another. I tried calmly to explain the necessity of putting on a diaper to no avail. Finally, I dug in my heels and wrestled her into her pajamas. After zipping her into her footed pajamas (which, by the way, are my all-time favorite), even she had forgotten what all of the fuss was about.
Seizing my moment, I scooped her up and into her bed. Osten came in and kissed her goodnight, and I curled up next to her to start our nighttime routine. Marci had other things in mind. She made a big production of rearranging the pillows at the end of her bed and refused to lay down. I finally convinced her to situate herself at the head of her bed. We read books and said her prayers. She opted to pass on the songs (go figure!) and I tucked her in for the night.
I kissed her forehead, turned on my heel to head for the door, and the wailing began. Crying is nothing new in our house, but this was near hysterics. And on the eve of her birthday no less. She was breaking my heart with her incessant sobbing. After nearly thirty minutes, I went into her room to find her in a heap near the end of her bed and nearly hyperventilating having worked herself into such a swivet. I settled her onto my hip, and the tears stopped. Like magic. That Marci, she knows what she wants, and she ain't afraid to cry until she gets it!
I cuddled and rocked her for a few minutes and tucked her back into her bed. Her head touched her pillow, and the full-on hysterical screaming and crying returned. I could see that it was going to be a battle of wills. I headed towards the kitchen to see about the boys' progress on Marci's birthday card and to pour myself a drink. A tall, cold drink . . .
Marci eventually tired and went to sleep. She awoke this morning to Osten parading into her room to announce her birthday, and she seemed rested and rationale. We all sang to her and shared a tiny cake for breakfast. Osten had gotten up especially early this morning, and he had already pulled out the Play-doh and cookie cutters. The two of them were having a ball, and it was especially enjoyable to watch them play together after the bedtime antics of the night before.
Back-to-back birthdays are rough on a mommy, and I took the day off today. Since we weren't in our usual rush against the clock, I let them play leisurely at the table. We gave Daddy an enthusiastic send off, and then we took turns getting dressed. The kids helped me sort the mountain of recycling that has been threatening to take over our garage, and we loaded the trunk of my car. They rode their bikes in the driveway as I gathered a few final things. When I called them, they both came running, and we put away their bikes. Osten climbed into his car seat and started to fasten his seatbelt. Marci has suddenly tired of the backseat and decided the driver's seat is where she wants to be. This is one of our most recent and persistent struggles. She is relentless! After two failed attempts, I literally had to pin her into her seat with one hand while fastening her seatbelt with the other. She is quite the worthy opponent, and I nearly needed a shower afterwards. And of course, she was screaming hysterically . . .
All of this crying in the past twelve hours got me thinking in earnest about Ann's theory concerning birthdays and behavior. When she says that it's hard going into and out of a new age, I wonder what kind of time frame we're talking about here. She's with her family at Disney right now, but you better believe that I'm going to ask as soon as she gets back! Of course, with any luck we'll slide out of this latest phase before her return early next week. However, something tells me that this terrible two's business is going to linger a little longer than the weekend.
Happy 2nd Birthday, Marci-girl! We love you . . . so much!! (Terrible two's and all!)
