I have a secret. Well…it’s not so secret anymore. Anyone who has been to my house lately has probably figured it out.
I have lost control. Of everything. My house, my kids, my weight, my temper. Everything. My family seems to be going through a “THAT family” phase.
You know THAT family. They are the family who, according to Kristen at We are THAT Family, “…always has troubles. Something out of the ordinary is always happening and they are usually followed by disaster.”
Hmmm…this sounds suspiciously familiar to me. In the last year, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to my husband, “What else can possibly happen to us?!” (By the way, don’t ever say that out loud. If you do, ten more bad things will inevitably happen. Trust me, I know these things from experience).
It’s funny, because I’ve always prided myself on being organized, responsible, conscientious. I told myself that even after I had children, I would still have it together. My house would be clean, my children would be well-behaved, and I would always be well-dressed and impeccably groomed (I know, you’re all peeing your pants laughing – a ha ha ha ha ha ha).
When I only had one child, I still held it together pretty well. My natural inclination toward schedules and routines, and my love of neatness and order helped keep things from falling apart. Plus, I was blessed with an obedient, adaptable, mature-beyond-her-years, super-easy kid.
Then Babycakes was born.
I absolutely adore my little Cakes, but she is none of the above. She is adorable, smart, hilarious and affectionate. She is also strong-willed, short-tempered, mischievous, insanely curious, fearless, and prone to tantrums. If you deviate from her routine, she falls apart. To put it politely, she is a “challenge.”
Babycakes is the kid who always has 5 band-aids plastered on each knee. Her hair and face are always messy, her clothes are always dirty, and she almost always has booger nose. During the day, about once an hour, I hear a loud BANG!, followed by “OW!” and then floods of tears. She is always hurting herself. She chipped both of her front teeth on the edge of the bathtub, split her lip open on her crib bar, and gave herself a black eye by walking around with a towel over her face until she banged into a doorknob. She even somersaulted over the arm of the couch and landed on her back on the wood floor. Didn’t breathe for the longest time. Turned purple. Took 10 years off my life.
She shuts her fingers in doors, gets her head stuck in weird places, and has been bitten by the cat more times than I can count. I can’t really blame him. If some kid poked me, stepped on me, pinched me, sat on me, and pulled my tail, I would bite too.
Cakesie also develops weird ailments, like the super-ginormous bug bites. Or the time when we had to take her to the doctor because she was throwing up once a day like clockwork, but had no symptoms of illness. Each night, after dinner, she would just barf all over, and then go back to playing as if nothing had happened. Turns out she really just needed to do a big poopie, so we had to give her apple juice with Karo syrup mixed in. She pooped for days. It was not good times at our house, I can tell you that.
She also eats really disgusting things, like vanilla wafers that she’s dunked in the toilet, or mud, or sand, or petrified raisins that she finds under the couch. She even ate half a tube of Chapstick once, and yesterday when I took her to the store, she ran around licking the pesticide-coated produce and saying, “Mmmmmm, lishus!” (Local readers, I suggest that you wash your produce carefully before eating it, to remove any baby spit that may be lingering. Sorry).
She scribbles on walls, clothing, seatbelts, and library books. She puts any small (but important) item she can find in the toilet, unravels entire rolls of toilet paper and paper towels, and gleefully empties tissue and tampon boxes. Once, she even took all of the dirty diapers out of the pail and flung them all over her bedroom carpet.
A couple of months ago, she locked herself in the bathroom by going in, shutting the door, and opening the vanity drawer, which then blocks the entry door from opening. My husband was able to open it just far enough to stick our long, metal barbeque fork into the side of the drawer so he could push it shut and get her out. When we opened the door, she was happily dipping her toothbrush in the toilet, and brushing her teeth with it. I tried not to get too upset, because with all of the revolting stuff she’s put in her mouth over the last year, I figure she probably has an iron-clad immune system by now.
Usually, after Babycakes goes to bed, I do one or more of the following:
1) Collapse from exhaustion
2) Rummage through the cabinets, looking for alcoholic beverages
3) Cry
I have learned that I cannot trust her, even for a moment. She requires constant vigilance. If I look away, even for an instant, she will get into trouble. Most days, I can’t complete even the most basic of housework. The lawn is full of weeds, the sink is full of dishes, the laundry pile is now a mountain. I have learned to accept this.
I have stopped caring so much about housework, and started caring about just getting through the day with everyone in one piece. Last week, I was so tired that I used my broom to sweep all of the kids’ junk into one central pile, and I left it there for three days. It reminded me of the movie “Mr. Mom,” when Michael Keaton is slobbing around in his flannel shirt, drinking beer and watching “The Young and the Restless,” while he shoves his kids’ toys under their beds with a garden rake.
When I started this blog, I wanted to help other moms get organized, get control, save money, and find happiness. What I never wanted was for anyone to think that I was perfect. I’ve read other Christian homemaking blogs that made me feel inadequate, because their authors gave the impression that they never had any problems. Life was always A-OK, and they were never frustrated, tired, or just plain mad. I soon stopped reading them, because theirs is a completely unrealistic standard to live up to. Life isn’t perfect. Kids aren’t perfect. Moms aren’t perfect. We all have problems, and there are times when we feel worn out, and maybe even a little defeated. All we can do is our best, and sometimes we need a little help.
Every family goes through a “THAT family” phase from time to time, and to be honest, I wouldn’t change a thing. (OK…so maybe there are a few things I would change). It might not be fun, but sometimes it sure is funny!
To join the “THAT Family Tree Society: Where Not Every Branch Forks,” visit Kristen’s blog to get your button, and tell your story. C’mon, do it for the rest of us. We could use a good laugh.
