Saturday, October 23, 2010

Can I really confess?

Is it even possible to articulate the space between the rapture and mind bending end of my patience with my children? If I found a way to, would you judge me? I can only say yes. Because I'm firmly convinced that nobody else goes through this. I think you all have your ups and downs with your kids but I am sure that I'm the only one seeing stars whether I've just screamed myself dizzy or held my breath too long counting. On the other hand, am I the only one staring in rapt fascination as Kaitlyn forms her expressive mouth into a word, Eden tells me a funny joke or Nick says "amazing" as he stares at something I've baked. No, I'm sure that the happy side and the middle are shared by us all.
This morning I had laid out a set of clothing for Eden, handed her a towel when she got out of the shower and run downstairs to where Kait was in the bath other bath because Eden hates baths and Kaitlyn hates showers. I shampooed, conditioned and brushed Kaits hair, dried her off and procured seasonally appropriate clothing for her. I went back up to the middle floor. Yeah, that's why I have such a girlish figure... or not. I started their lunches, I got cereal bowls out and then asked Eden where she was. There was no reply. I continued, Kaitlyn sat down with her chosen cereal as usual, ready WAY before Eden. I yelled up to Eden that I needed to know what kind of cereal she wanted. No reply. I yelled again after making the peanut butter sandwiches. No reply. How many minutes had transpired... twenty... thirty? I walked up half a flight of stairs and there she was, not a stitch of clothing, hair dripping wet on end with a shirt in her hands. It was not the shirt I had laid out. I felt that vein throbbing in the side of my forehead. She told me she wasn't going to wear that outfit and couldn't find her "skinny" jeans. She brushed past me downstairs and found them folded in a laundry basket. I'll clarify that she turned 8 yesterday. No, she is not 15 or 17 or 18. I did not hold my breath and count! I railed in a most unbecoming fashion. It wasn't patient or kind or understanding and I broke the rule of "don't ask why" that I like to preach. I asked her what she had been doing that WHOLE time up there! When she told me "looking for my skinny jeans" I thought I was going to collapse, I was definitely dizzy. Not because a person should never look for their skinny jeans, but if your jeans are not in the drawer and they're not hanging in the closet, it's time to move on ya know? How does a person spend 20 or possibly 30 minutes looking in the same two spots for a pair of jeans? Eden ate her cereal in about 30 seconds. I swept the other two children out the front door to the car but my phone was ringing and Eden was of course still putting her shoes on and stopped to answer it. (It would be well for all parents of 2 or less children to take note of how easy it is to handle just two children and how impossible it becomes with 3). I buckled Nick, counted to 1! and started screaming again. No response from the house. I marched in, took the phone away and propelled her out to the car, wondering how I will make it another 10 years of this. I just don't think so. It's just not for me. I was good with diapers and burping and all of that jazz, but a diva? No, I cannot handle a diva. THEN, the revelation tonight. It turned out that after struggling against a rash on Eden's face since July of which we have been through hoops over that there had been a transgression. I have banned all things from her face, I have thrown away her toothpaste, I have gotten countless creams, ointments, trips to the doctor and the expensive dermatologist. We've considered food allergy, impetigo, perioral dermatitis, kleenex with lotion... I can't even remember what all we've been through with this, several things multiple times where I would prohibit something and she'd forget or just disobey because she wanted to be glittery etc... and finally, recently I had it almost but not quite gone and then a couple of days ago boom, starts turning red and itching again. I was reading online AGAIN tonight, just going over everything again. Telling Jody this one person had finally beaten the perioral dermatitis by avoiding mouthwash, regular toothpaste, regular shampoo and regular conditioner. I idly mentioned that I had told Eden to cease mouthwash weeks ago and Jody said "no, she was using it last night!" Instantly I felt my mouth go dry, that helpless feeling that no matter how hard I try, Eden will never work with me to make that infernal rash go away. I lost it again. Screaming, railing about her never getting rid of the rash, telling her to go dump out the entire bottle of mouthwash, on and on and on...
In summary, ll I can think is that, God had a special purpose in giving me Eden. Not just because she's a fabulous person and has unlimited potential but because she pushes me in the most indescribable way to the point that I really don't know how to speak clearly let alone think clearly sometimes. How can we get to the point that she's a healthy whole person when she's grown without being damaged by me? How will I empower her to her greatest potential without squashing her spirit? How will I ensure that we can be great friends when she's grown and talk to each other about everything? I think the real kicker is that Nick is so manageable. Kait stresses me a little but Eden has taken me to the edge of my mind since she turned a year old. So these things continue to roll around in my suspiciously warped brain, and they've been confessed now. It will change nothing I suppose. I'll just hope that Eden will read my blog someday and know how much I love her and forgive me, like in that Francine Rivers book I just read. It always turns out happy in the end right?

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