Today was one of those days.
Everyone has them. You know, the kind where you feel like crying? Where you wonder, "now why exactly did I wait and pray for 5 years to get these babies?" Can I handle this for how many more years? Am I the world's worst mother?
At least I hope I'm not the only one with days like this.
It started off fine, in our routine, naps a little short, but with several hours to kill before it was time to pick up Tyler. I decided to do a return at a store about 40 minutes away. We got there, waited in line for the return, and all is well. People are chatting with me--telling me what cute, well-behaved children I have. I even foolishly think Brady has magically decided that the stroller is fine. (I was able to get the straps even tighter, which I thought had solved my problem.)
So after my return, and since the boys were acting so well, I decided to look around. I was really hoping to buy some flower stems. Well by the time I made it to the stems, Brady had gotten his arms out, and was flailing back and forth all while screaming. I spent maybe five minutes trying to get him to calm down, but once I realized it wasn't going to work, I left.
I got out to the car and didn't know if I should
a. laugh (because I've been told that I was the master tantrum thower at Brady's age--up to 10 a day according to my mom. Mom--I love you!)
b. scream (I was so mad at him) or
c. cry (I realize it is only the beginning of temper tantrums, and I pray we all live to see him turn 3).
So as I am mad and on the verge of tears, and just in a foul mood the rest of the day. And then, I get a surprise. My dear friend Kelsey, aka photographer extraordinaire, gives me our disk from last week's photo session. And these are some of the images she captured:
I love these boys. As I looked through the images, everything felt okay again. Yes, it can be hard. But this too will pass. They won't be throwing temper tantrums in the store when they are 15. Well, they'd better not be. It is so worth it, and I feel privileged to be their mom.