"Urine" it now.

Raising a four year old is hell. It really is. Ironically enough, no one talks about it. We are totally brain washed into believing that things are smooth sailing once we are past those "Terrible Twos" but then we hit 3. And then, 4 which to date, is the worst age ever. I have decided to break the silence. SHIP YOUR KIDS OFF AT FOUR!!!

As mentioned in the previous post, the toy room smelled like pee. I can't stand it. I could smell it every time I went downstairs. We thought Mc might have had a slight bladder problem and we were out of the woods. So Monday, as in four days ago, I called to have the carpets cleaned. I paid $300 to have the special "flash" treatment to suck it out of the pad & I figured life was back to normal. NOPE. Come home from mutual last night and just what you want to hear is your husband say as you walk in, "You are going to be really mad". Great.

5. F I V E fresh spots of pee on the carpet and, for an added bonus, one of my couch pillows had been fully squatted on as well. Did you read that I had just had my carpets cleaned on Monday? It is now Wednesday. I didn't even get a full week of pee free. Thoughts started brewing about the possibility of it being a UTI. "Uncontrollable urination after potty training". Let's give the kid the benfit of the doubt. An enthralling episode of Peppa Pig goes one second too long and she peed without being able to control it.

Fast forward to today. The pee smell lingers on. Appointment for noon to meet with the pediatrician. Get to have the wonderful experience of catching my daughter's urine in a cup. Everything is 100% normal. Now, here is where I really feel torn. I almost WISHED that something was wrong and that a pill for a week would take it away. I have to go back to the reward system for my potty trained child who will get a sticker every day for (really??) not peeing on the carpet.

The smell continues. Tonight we find that almost every pillow on both of my couches has been used as a toilet. The toddler recliner. A few more spots on the carpet and Mark and I are on all fours shamelessly sniffing the carpet to find any more little surprises. One full spray bottle of "Pee Pee Pet & Kid Odor Neutralizer" down.

I have turned into a mean mom too. Really. I even got the, "I guess you don't love me anymore" for losing my cool tonight. It really sucks. The pediatrician suggests that we learn to "let things go" and "pick our battles". I truly think that this is what I struggle with the most. I am in charge. I am the mom- she has to listen to me right? So tonight we went to dance without tights, wearing Toms in the ice & snow. We didn't take a bath or take out her braids. We didn't push quiet time. She stayed up an hour past bed time. So we are on to tomorrow. That means we are one more day closer to five. Which I hear, isn't so bad.

So this is what you meant, when you said that you were spent?

Last night a group of ladies and I talked about some of the harsh realities of motherhood. It was funny, we all kind of agreed it was hard to read those blogs about perfect moms with perfect kids that craft, bake and never leave the house in sweatpants. If you came for that here, keep on moving.

I recently started following this chick on instagram. She coordinates cheetah print with chevron and it works, her house is decorated like a darling French Villa, she owns a small business, her kids are darling little cherubs, she can rock a pixie cut,  and she gets at least 317 likes on each picture she posts. How is it fair that one person gets it all? How can one person have each divine quality that I struggle to maintain even one?

Revelation comes in interesting ways. What I thought to be perfection really isn't so. We really all feel inadequate. We all find our children to be "inconveniences" at some point or another. We go bra less. That pinterest craft that we thought was awesome was a complete failure. We let our kids eat fruit snacks and a sucker for breakfast. But in the end life moves on.

I guess this week has just been a particularly rough one. Mckinley is completely irrational and is really pushing the boundaries with listening. She no longer sleeps in her bed but is crashed out on the couch almost every morning. Kingston is entering the terrible twos which we all knows leads to the awful threes and even-worse fours. My calling stresses me out. I never feel like I do enough. My cuticles are paying the price. My playroom smells like pee. I feel the frump from not being able to run and eating WAY too much crap. I can't sleep. I feel pressure and stress from my job. I still have to clean. Cook. Grocery shop. And all of this compounded with coming off almost two weeks of the flu for the whole Williamson house.

Epiphany. In the end it's all about expectations. What do I expect from my four year old-who is just that FOUR? What do I expect from myself as a full time, working mom? What do I expect my house to look like after two young kids with WAY too many toys have been playing all day? What am I expecting when I try to brave Target with two small kids and spend too much time perusing the clothes? How do I expect to feel when I stay up way too late watching Teen Mom & Project Runway?

Ultimately- this anxiety is totally self inflicted. It's about controlling the controllables. I can choose to be happy with this chaos called life. I can choose to let the mess, the naked 4 year old and the never ending explosion known as the toy room define my life OR I can add it all up, file it away and remember that someday it will all be a distant memory and hopefully, my kids will think their lives growing up were almost perfect. almost.  

Split ends.

Mckinley's hair has never been cut. Her hair, from conception, has been left to nature and let's be honest, nature has been good. She really has THE most beautiful hair. Well, at four years old, we finally decided to even out the ends. My sweet SIL Kamille came over and leveled off the ends- only about an inch, but when I held it in my hands it seemed like so much. Again, one of those "firsts" that are over in a split second. The comb goes through smoother, it's easier to wash and there aren't as many stragglers when we Alex does a braid. But, most people wouldn't even notice.

For a moment, it made me a little sad. It's just a haircut. The one of many I am sure but in the end, it was a first that is over. And we move on now to firsts that are a lot less simple like the conversation last week about lady parts ("What are those?" poke poke). I much rather prefer the haircut and explaining why we can't have ramen noodles for breakfast.

Hair like spun silk the color of gold.

 

 

The big girl held super still & wasn't scared at all.