I had a day that was filled with toddler style chaos. Just a regular day really. But I was off. I have had to survive on very little sleep (blah blah blah, the old sleep song again...........does it ever end??) while feeling under the weather with two sicky kids. What was probably just regular, excitable, 3 year old behaviour at the end of the day, finally reached a point of nearly unbearable madness.
There was a small break, not in the pandemonium that was my day, but in my attitude towards it. I had a moment that was not unlike the play scene in the movie Parenthood. You know the one, where the play gets ruined and the father goes from total anxiety, to eventually going with the flow, even to the point of enjoying the disarray.
For me it was the constant reprimanding for hitting, throwing, screaming etc etc etc...........I had the feeling like my chest was slowly compressing, my breath coming in small sporadic inhales, little puffs of exhausted air in my exhales. I felt as if I couldn't breathe, as if there was in intense pressure building inside me that was threatening to explode.
This was the exact moment that the Ro-Dog decided to pick up a couple of measuring cups, bang them together as hard and loud as he could while scream singing and running around the house naked. The naked part was the only reason (oh yes and the pure exhausted effort it would have taken to find the camera) I did not get off my lazy arse and video tape the madness that was my life at that moment.
I don't know if it was just out right giving up the fight that tampered down the potential for a clean run out of the room and into the bathroom to hide for a while, or if I finally decided to enjoy the roller coaster ride instead of pushing against it. For whatever reason, there I sat calmly, a smirk of appreciation forming on my lips, an excited and squirming Avery giggling on my lap. And there we were, A-Rock and I, watching his big brother act as crazy as any 3 year old I have ever seen.