Tis the season for sharing, so I thought I'd share a little bit of my past week and a half with you, my friends. Let me start by saying that when you have multiple children, it is generally recognized that they will be different in their own right and so in raising multiple children, you must expect that you will encounter new experiences and new challenges with each one. This certainly has been the case with many things when it comes to William and Lily. In her younger days, Lily was a bit more challenging when it came to sleeping but was and is generally a very good eater whereas William is just the opposite. To say that William is a picky eater doesn't quite capture the the essence of William's eating habits. I hesitate to even mention it here because each time I do, it seems to get significantly worse. It's as if he knows that I've been complaining about it, and he decides to show me how much worse it can be. The reason that I'm discussing it anyway is that I truly don't think it could get any worse. William currently reliably eats absolutely nothing beyond candy, cookies, pudding, and ice cream (none of which we can keep in the house anymore due to his relentless begging when we have them on hand). Given the right mood, William will eat pretzels, popcorn, crackers, yogurt, pizza, Cheerios, pancakes, or chips with melted cheese. On rare occasions, we may get a little fruit in him. Of course other foods are offered, but he won't even touch (and oftentimes will not look at) them. If you try to force him to just taste something, he will gag and sometimes throw up. [Insert here at visual of me banging my head against the wall.] Many people suggest, and believe me I've tried, hiding healthy foods in the foods that he will eat. But, unless you know a way to get something healthy into (not on top of) a Cheese-It or pretzel stick, it's not happening. (And if you do happen to know a way to get something healthy in these things, please don't tell me; I don't want the guilt that will surely result when I don't attempt to make a healthy version of Cheese-Its from scratch.)
So, eating is a daily struggle in our house, but that is not the reason for this post here today. The thing I really want to share (read: desperately need to vent) is the force of destruction that is William. Lily really neglected to prepare me in any way, shape, or form for what I would be dealing with when it comes to William. Lily was the typical two to three-year-old, getting into the usual trouble that two to three-year-olds get into. Nothing is typical about William's ways. I honestly believe that left to his own devices, William could level our house in one day. So, in the spirit of Christmas, I'd like to share a common Christmas song with a William twist.
On the first day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me...pink acrylic paint spread on our table, chairs and floor.
On the second day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me...a bathroom makeover with his very own poop.
On the third day of Christmas, my wild child gave to *his sister*....a bath filled with now-all-too-familiar little brown floating nuggets.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me....an overflowing toilet stuffed with toilet paper.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me...broken glass.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me...a seat belt wrapped around his neck while I'm driving down the highway. [This little gem involved me immediately exiting the highway and pulling over to rescue my choking child.]
On the seventh day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me....rejection of all food but constant chewing on his own shoes.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me...relocation of his baby sister.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me...throwing up during our family photo shoot. (Granted, this one was not his fault but fun nonetheless.)
On the tenth day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me...a brisk run through a retail store and out the door.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me....a 20 pound bag on dog food dumped on the floor.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my wild child gave to me....snuggles and smiles that made it all worthwhile.
This little diddy does not include many, many near-misses such as taking an entire pitcher of grape juice off the counter and carrying it around the kitchen or climbing the shelves in the pantry. In sharing these experiences, I do have an ulterior motive in maybe creating some understanding and forgiveness of my recent fails as a mother. Among the highlights are:
Getting the entire family ready for an on-site photo shoot 30 minutes away and then freaking out when our photographer did not show up at said photo shoot only to learn that I was 24-hours early.
Wondering why Lily's bus was so late only to discover that I had starting waiting for her at 3:05 instead of 4:05.
By far my biggest fail: Forgetting the baby was in the car for a full 60-seconds before remembering and going back to retrieve her.
So in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, if you should see a woman attempting to find an ounce of sanity in a pound of Christmas cookies, just kindly ignore and look away and know that she is likely the mom of multiple children, hanging on by a very small thread. Happy holidays everyone.
