Second Guessing

Parenting is hard. Several people have told me that it is the hardest, most frustrating, yet most rewarding job you can ever have. Two years into it, I would have to agree. A little over a year into the terrible twos, I'm wondering how on Earth I will survive the threes and oh my gosh, there's going to be two of them in their twos!

I don't know if all parents do this. But I'm always second guessing and worrying and wondering. Did I make the right decision to punish Evie for this? Should I have reacted differently?

I worry about Evie turning into a total brat. Or a hellion. Or a totally dysfunctional member of society.

Is that a normal parent thing?

Is second guessing worse than just making the mistake in the first place?

Am I over analyzing this whole parenting thing?

Shoo. The last is probably a resounding yes. Because I pretty much over analyze...well, everything. But it's a pretty ingrained personality flaw. And it's not gotten me killed yet. Probably too late to change it anyways.

But the terrible two's are just that. They are so terrible. There is this speckling of sweet moments. When she climbs up into my lap at the kitchen table and hugs my neck and says "Love you Momma!" that makes me smile. Or when she's yammering away about her nice clean tennis shoes and insists I call her ma so she can say "Tank you Ma! Tanks!" But as bright and wonderful as those moments are they are so overwhelmed by the days of tantrums. The days that start off with her standing in the kitchen screaming because she has to eat something for breakfast and are followed by tantrums over not getting to watch more t.v. and tantrums over having to share her toys and tantrums when she has to go potty. There just aren't words for how awful those days are. Those are the days that I thank God I have a full-time job and get to deposit her with someone else for at least a few hours a few days a week.

And everyone tells me that the three's are soooo much worse. I just can't imagine. Especially since, if you'll remember, I will have a three year old and a two year old. And then even after Evie is out of her "three's" and hopefully not such a pain, Elly will still be in her's. God help me. It's going to be a couple of hard years. Three years of tantrums and potty training and more tantrums and oh-my-gosh.

On top of all this, right after I finish yelling at Evie for her terrible attitude and sending her to time-out AGAIN, I see a commercial on television about how the first five years are the most formative and how the type of person your child will grow to be is established during those first few years. Holy crap. What kind of heathen am I unleashing on the world?

So yeah, these years are hard. I snuggle up to Elly, who is in that awesome oh-so-sweet and fun baby phase and I think how much different she'll be six months from now. She'll be walking and talking and able to feed herself. She'll have an opinion and be able to express it some. And then she'll become a two-year-old and I will sit and wonder where my sweet baby went as she throws yet another fit.

How does anyone survive it?

Seems like it comes and goes. We have better weeks and worse weeks. Though it seems to correlate more with what's going on with Evie developmentally versus what's going on with our household. Like this week she's tackling going potty solo...so we've had a lot of fits and fighting and rebelling.

And what will we do when there are two of them? Throwing themselves in the floor and screaming and flailing.

I just keep reminding myself "This too shall pass" and praying that I'm not like seriously messing up my kids.