Sunday's are just flat out rough. Rushed mornings with breakfast in the car, tears at the nursery drop-off, and postponed naps.
Today was one of those days where I felt like, yep. I HAVE A TWO-YEAR-OLD.
He wants the blue spoon, not the green spoon. And no, I don't want to sit in the booster, because I'm tall up-to-the-sky like Daddy. And I don't like it, Mama! I don't like pasghetti!
The books say to ignore the tantrums. And most days, I do. I walk away and tell him to come find me when he is ready to speak kindly. But today, we were simply in a funk.
The kind of funk that is there whether you ignore it or not.
The kind of funk that has my blood start to bubble because I can't. handle. the. screaming.
The kind of funk that, really, only one thing can fix.
I crank up the tunes (lately, this song by Brooke Fraser is my go-to funk-busting song), grab my screaming boy, and start spinning in circles.
The cries quickly turned into side-splitting laughter. We twirled and bounced around the house and listened to the song three times in a row. Funk forgotten.
Imperfect children. Far from perfect motherhood. And loud music. I found freedom here.
This is day 6 of "31 days if finding freedom". Click here for more posts in this series.